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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275884">The King of Stone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf'>Lost_Elf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The King of Stone [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Actor Handsome Jack (Borderlands), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Atlas CEO Rhys, Best Friends, Dating, Drama &amp; Romance, F/M, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, If you only read one work by me, King of Stone Handsome Jack, M/M, Made For Each Other, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Power Bottom Rhys (Borderlands), Rhys is not a damsel in distress in this one, Service Top Handsome Jack, The Mage Rhys Strongfork, gay AU, probably some undiagnosed mental issues, slightly dark AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:35:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected but not unlikely connection blooms between a famous actor and the founder and owner of the Atlas Animation Studio.</p><p>Rhys has a dream, a strict plan how to achieve it, and all the determination and power he needs to do so. Handsome Jack is tired of life not being easy, and Rhys looks like the perfect man to spend the rest of it with. But this world is a crazy place, and their journey won't be easy.</p><p>**** COMPLETED ****</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Vaughn/Yvette (Borderlands)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The King of Stone [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a game for two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This concept was created in October last year! It was meant to be my first long BL fic. What a journey since then! ^.^</p><p>I fell in love with Stone King Jack in my story <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483644">'The Dream That Haunts Your Dreams'</a> [TW non-con], and I decided to rework this old concept and created a whole series. Yes, there will be more, but this part had to come out first. :)</p><p><strong>AU where only M/M and F/F relationships are allowed, heterosexuals are hunted and sent to gulags</strong> It is a dark world and this is an angsty story, but it is a GOOD angsty story. Heed the tags, though. ^.^<br/>How does this universe work? Only homosexuality is allowed, and, in most countries, heterosexuals are hunted and killed. Only same-sex partners can have children. Other than this, the world is a relatively normal, modern setting with places having the same names like places in the Borderlands. Rhys has both his arms and two brown eyes, Jack doesn't wear a mask, but there is a scar, though not big, same as in MMATA.</p><p>This is hopefully all I need to say. I'm so, <em>so</em> proud of this work and love The King of Stone so much! I hope you will enjoy it! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How they met, and what started the fire.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun was high in the sky, sharp and burning Jack’s eyes even through his sunglasses. The driver that brought him here and opened the door for him grumbled something about the weather and rushed back into the comfort of the car. Following his example, Jack sped up, reaching the studio before he could burn alive.</p><p>Sunny weather doesn’t only mean that most of the studio where the filming takes place will be insufferably hot and sultry, but also that the scenes that are supposed to be happening on a cloudy day will be postponed again. Soon, the leaves will start changing colour, and of course that yellow leaves in summer will be the only thing the critics will care about, and Jack would sooner break contract than star in a shitty movie. The director should start praying for rain soon.</p><p>There are a lot of new faces today. Only a quarter of the scenes has been filmed so far, so it is probably too soon for this many employees to be replaced, and the studio seems to be bursting in the seams with them. That means there is probably a reason why they are here. Hopefully, to make Jack’s life easier.</p><p>“Hey, you, blondie,” he stops by a random busy worker bee that is carrying a handful of extension cords. “Bring me ice coffee in twenty at set 4, ‘kay? ‘Kay.” If they are new, they might as well make themselves useful and learn how different things are when the star is filming.</p><p>He walks away before the guy can stammer his <em>yes, Handsome Jack, sir</em>. But he is made to regret not pretending to have a conversation with him, listen to the fanboy speech he undoubtedly had at ready, because Jeffry Blake comes running to him. His manager, the most annoying and boring man he had ever met.</p><p>“Jack, you are late!” he says in lieu of greeting. “You’re lucky the technicians had some difficulties, and they are only beginning to set up the greenscreen now.”</p><p>Although he would like to ignore that man, he is forced to give him attention. “How long?” he asks. “I might ‘s well go someplace that isn’t a giant oven. ‘S there a bar somewhere? I still didn’t get to try all the alcohol this city is so proud of.”</p><p>The hard look in the manager’s face is enough for him to know that he is about to get a speech – he had known that guy for way too long – so he makes a sharp turn, escaping both the man and the hot air as he finds a breakroom with an actual air conditioning.</p><p>“Handsome Jack, sir! I was looking for you. Mr Blake told me you haven’t arrived yet. Would you like to—”</p><p>He walks straight through the room in the direction of the dressing rooms. Why did he agree to give that chick a job, again? Probably because Athena gave him a stern look and reminded him of all the shit she is doing for Wilhelm only because Jack begged her to. He wasn’t sure suffering Janey and her constant attempts to get him to read the script again, practice his lines or eat healthy and make his life more public, get close to people— No, it all totally <em>wasn’t</em> worth it.</p><p>And because the universe didn’t want him to have a quiet morning, he met none other than the director himself, pacing by the dressing rooms, obviously waiting for him. He contemplated avoiding him too, but the only way around he could take now was through the storeroom, and all the eager part-timers and teenagers there would eat him alive, demanding an autograph for their dying younger sister and totally not for a secret jerk-off stash. And Randy noticed him anyway.</p><p>“Jack! I’m glad you are finally here. I need to introduce you to the main—”</p><p>“Sorry, Randy,” Jack interrupted him, motioning somewhere behind him like it had the explanation. Fortunately, it actually did. “I’m just here to pick up some props, then I have a recap with Springs. You know how she is, no excuses,” he lies through his teeth, slipping past the director before he can come up with a polite way to call him out on his bullshit.</p><p>The two ladies responsible for his makeup are already waiting for him in the dressing room. The cycle repeats.</p>
<hr/><p>Rhys woke up at 6:30 AM and went for a jog to the park, as usually. After a shower, he made himself a grits bowl with avocado and baked tofu strips, drank a pineapple smoothie and prepared a salad for lunch. He avoided anything heavy and overall chose the healthiest possible meals for today. This would be his last big job, if all works out well. After this, he will sell Atlas and continue to only do small gigs. Ending his career by working on a movie with Handsome Jack was the best way to go.</p><p>He chose an all-white outfit – white jeans, light blue V-neck and a white shirt left unbuttoned on top of it – and styled his hair, ditching a pair of white leather shoes for something less restricting after looking at the outside temperature. Rhys was almost ready to go. He checked everything again – his work laptop, charging cord, all the notebooks covered in scribbling and doodles, a few printed-out photos and a hard-drive with some of the animations that are already finished.</p><p>He would not ruin his first day on set by forgetting something. Hyperion was reluctant to hire Atlas for the most CGI movie they ever did, and he will show them exactly why they didn’t make a mistake. He did not become famous and successful at 24 for nothing.</p><p>A text message from Yvette pings at 9:30 AM exactly, telling him that his car is waiting. He smirks at the precision. Of course, they are the best. He cannot wait to make the director cry, or maybe even the big boss, Tassiter of Hyperon himself. Both will definitely cry when they see the paycheck, but he won’t refuse a few tears in advance.</p><p>Yvette is waiting in the car, her smug smirk mirroring his. She is one of the three original founders of Atlas, but back then it was hardly a company. Only Rhys’ skill (and his father’s connections) allowed them to grow so fast. Now, Atlas consists of little over three hundred people, all looking up to Rhys like to their benevolent god, and all currently working on animating a space war.</p><p>“Are you ready for this, Mr Magician?” she teases as Rhys enters the car. They call him <em>The Mage</em>. He makes things appear that shouldn’t be possible, both on screen through animations that are better than they have any right to be, and in reality, creating a company from nothing with only his high school friends to help him. (Someone might point out his father’s money here, but let us not.)</p><p>“Always,” he answers, putting on his favourite sunglasses. He snaps a photo, because he looks fabulous like this, and immediately shares it to his Twitter and Instagram.</p><p>Yvette pointedly clears her throat. He knows what is coming before it happens. “I hope you don’t faint when you see Handsome Jack. Would be a pain to blame it on the weather…”</p><p>“<em>If</em> I meet Handsome Jack,” he corrects her, though that is probably not the right answer, because she snickers. “And why would I faint? Liking his movies and having a few rare posters doesn’t make me a fanboy.”</p><p>She is not done yet, and he knows she will keep joking at his expense until they arrive, so he doesn’t bother giving her more reactions. “I hope you tied your belt tight today; else your pants might drop if you get closer than five meters to him. Oh! I know that you aren’t one of those men who get wet when horny, but what if you do when you catch a whiff of his cologne? I’ll be watching your ass closely today, —”</p><p>“You’re <em>always</em> watching my ass closely, Ywette.”</p><p>“— and I’m sure there will be a wet spot by the end of the day.”</p><p>“If you say so,” he hums and turns his attention to the studio. He never worked there before and only visited a few times to check out what he will be working with. Right now, somewhere in the building, there are at least five very famous actors, one famous director, and a <em>lot of</em> successful people. Well, the number of stars in there is about to grow.</p><p>Rhys holds the door for his friend, receiving one of her endless array of straight jokes. Being a bunch comprised of both boys and girls at high school, they surely learned a lot of those, but Yvette seemed to be the most hell-bent on reminding her two friends of them every day. She managed to get a few more quips on the same note in before they arrived at the director’s office.</p><p>A young blonde woman waits outside of the office, probably expecting them. She smiles a too wide smile, face a little flushed from the hot weather. “You must be Mr Strongfork, and Miss, uhm…”</p><p>“Just call me Yvette,” she flashes her a smile and saves her. “We are expected by Mr Pitchford and Mr Tassiter.”</p><p>“I’ll inform them of your arrival,” the secretary – or whoever it is; she didn’t even bother introducing herself – smiles another awkward smile. “I must warn you that they aren’t in a good mood. There have been some technical difficulties.”</p><p>Rhys grits his jaw just a little tighter and is thankful that the blondie is busy ogling at Yvette. “Please, tell me it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t seen a single van with our equipment yet.” His tone is professional, but the woman’s smile falls off her face and shoulders droop like he just laid all blame on her.</p><p>“U-unfortunately, s-sir, it has. They seem to be stuck in a traffic jam. I-I’ll just, I’ll, Mr Tassiter and…” she trails off, already backing away in the direction of the office. As soon as she ducks inside, Rhys groans. This wouldn’t be happening if the old goat allowed them to bring everything one day earlier, but he didn’t want to pay extra security, and neither did Rhys.</p><p>Yvette seemed to be annoyed for a different reason. “Why don’t they ever remember my name?! I make all your goddamn phone calls! By this point, I’m not sure whether I’m a secretary, your PA or just a call centre!”</p><p>“Maybe you are too hot, and they forget your name, too blinded by your beauty,” he suggests, indulging in a rare joke. “I’ll put your name on everything Atlas if you find me a way to avoid this meeting. I really don’t want to be saying <em>I told you so, you suck-up, old Hyperion jackass</em>, but I don’t see this going any other way. That idiot will cost us at least four hours, and that’s only if they arrive now!”</p><p>“Don’t go insulting him, Rhys, you are terrible at that,” Yvette smirks. “Leave that to me, if it’s necessary, and you can just stand there and give them your winning smile. Or make them cry. Your choice. We are still much better than them, we can afford to lose this gig.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I’m one gig with Hyperion away from retirement. Retired at 24, how does that sound?”</p><p>“Like a bad idea.”</p><p>Rhys would hear another speech about why he shouldn’t give Atlas up and stop doing something he is obviously good at if the door didn’t open at that exact moment. The blonde woman holds the door open for them and then closes them from the outside with a sigh of relief that is too loud. Looking at his two partners, Rhys can’t but envy her the privilege of not discussing business that shouldn’t need any further discussion in a small office full of papers. He already prays for lunch break.</p>
<hr/><p>Jack navigates the corridors of the studio like his own home, knowing exactly which route to take to avoid as many people that could want something to do with him as possible. He lost Janey on lunch break two hours ago when she made a call to her girlfriend and forgot to watch him, and he has been avoiding her ever since. He avoided a few more people on the way, like Randy, who still wanted to introduce him to someone. Jack only escaped because he raised his XXL latte to his face at the right moment and Randy must have mistaken him for Daemon, his stunt double, as he passed him.</p><p>Finding a rather empty corridor, Jack finally stops, leaning on some boxes and letting out a sigh. He pulls out his phone and opens a news site, scrolling to the culture section. He really only wanted to drink his coffee in peace, why was that so hard to achieve?</p><p>“Adam! Here you are! Where the hell have you been?!”</p><p>Jack flinches, eyes flicking up to assess the situation, decide whether he will be forced to dodge more people, or he can stay here in his hiding spot. He sees a rather gorgeous young man and the blonde worker that brought him ice coffee when he arrived. He doesn’t know either one of them, and they don’t look like a threat, so he relaxes and watches the situation unfold.</p><p>“Mr Rhys, I—” the blonde man stammers, visibly shaking in front of the other. <em>Mr Rhys</em>, on the other hand, looks like a Greek statue of some god. Dressed in white, his skin pale and flawless, expression of pure anger on his face, he could definitely pass as some marble deity if they let him stand in a museum.</p><p>“If you want to spill excuses, make a good one, Adam,” Rhys warns him in a hard tone that has the other man flinching. Blondie seems to be good couple years older than him, but he is cowering and sweating in front of his boss, or whoever the brunet is.</p><p>“I, I, uhm, I’m on my way, s-sir,” he holds up the extension cords in his arms as a barrier between him and the other man’s wrath. Jack frowns. He got the coffee hours ago, there is no way the guy would— “I was stopped by, by Handsome Jack, a-and he wanted me to bring him, uhm, coffee, to the stage.” So, he really did try to blame him. Jack’s amusement almost makes him break the silence, but the brunet catches his attention, and he forces a laugh down. He just knows that this is only going to get better.</p><p>“Oh. My. God.” The brunet gapes. “Handsome Jack <em>himself</em> asked you to make him coffee? Oh, then, uhm, then I guess that could hold you up. That is a reason, yeah.” He goes as far as to scratch the back of his neck in a nervous gesture, fidgeting in front of his underling. Jack sees right through him, but Blondie eats it up, relaxing and nodding.</p><p>“Adam White, right? Joined Atlas three months ago.”</p><p><em>Atlas, huh?</em> So, this piece of marble must be The Mage, or whatever they call the kid.</p><p>Adam senses danger. “Y-yes, sir. You interviewed me personally.” A droplet of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he fidgets, only finding comfort in his boss’s now kind face.</p><p>“Oh, I know,” Rhys assures him. “You said that you are not a fast learner, but you make up for it with enthusiasm. Yeah, I remember. I like enthusiasm in people,” he reaches out and puts a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “But I never thought it would take you three hours to figure out a coffee machine and return to work. Are you <em>sure</em> you have passed elementary school, Adam?” Rhys’ voice grows hard again, and Blondie flinches, stammering.</p><p>“Next time, come up with a better excuse than an actor that didn’t even bother arriving yet, and don’t fucking lie to my face, thank you. Or do you want me to mention your inability to carry a few cords from one side of a building to another to your future employer? <em>Enthusiastic, but if you want coffee from him, order it three hours in advance. And make it espresso, or it might take even longer. Sometimes hallucinates about popular actors. </em>Would that sound nice?” he rubs his chin, pretending to mull about it.</p><p>Adam looks close to crying. “N-no, sir. A-am I, am I fired, sir?”</p><p>Rhys rolls his eyes. “If those cords are where they are supposed to be in the next twenty minutes, no. And stop trying to pick up Hyperion’s baristas in the cafeteria. Yes, I saw you there! And there was no Handsome Jack.” he calls after Adam’s retreating back, who ran off as soon as he could.</p><p>Rhys rolls his eyes again, calming down instantly. He is about to walk away when Jack steps out of his hiding. “You know,” he says, relishing in startling the brunet, who jumps. “He really did bring me coffee few hours ago.” To his disappointment, Rhys doesn’t look startled when he turns around, composed once more. And absolutely unimpressed by Jack’s grand revelation, to the actor’s disappointment.</p><p>The boss gives him one contemplative look, from Jack’s perfectly styled hair to the tips of his leather shoes, and then he folds his arms and raises an eyebrow at him. “And? He should have lied and come up with a more believable, and overall better excuse. Bringing you coffee is not a reason to be late. It is a reason to be fired, as far as I am concerned. He works for Atlas, not for Hyperion.”</p><p>There is a challenge in the soft baby-face, and Jack takes it on with barely concealable interest. “So, between us two, you are the bigger fish, you say?” He walks towards him, noting that he is at least ten centimetres taller and intending to take full advantage of it.</p><p>“If a shark can be called a fish, then yes,” Rhys answers, not dropping his stance even as Jack comes closer than is appropriate, towering over him. “Careful,” he says, “you might get bitten too.”</p><p>Jack… likes that <em>a lot</em>. It had been ages since someone last faced him like this. Even Randy bows before him, and Tassiter will soon have to do that too. This guy, this <em>Rhys</em>, doesn’t seem like the type who will sweat looking for the politest way to talk to him. He probably wouldn’t hesitate to tell Jack to go fuck himself. Or tell him honestly what he thinks. Honesty is hard to come by, these days.</p><p>Just as he is about to try his luck once more, more than willing to be bitten by this masterpiece, Jack hears a voice he really doesn’t want to. “Oh, I see you’ve already met!” Randy is breathing hard, probably from running all around the place looking for one of them. “Jack, this is Rhys Strongfork from Atlas. He is in charge of basically anything concerning animation. Mr Strongfork, this is Jack Lawrence, Handsome Jack, our star and—”</p><p>“I’m sure he knows,” Jack snorts, ignoring the director in sake of studying Rhys’ face. He looks back at him with the same challenge still there, asking, <em>begging</em> Jack to try and get a raise of him. “Pleasure to meet ya, Cupcake,” he hums in a voice that usually has fanboys fanning themselves. It gets minimal reaction from this one, however.</p><p>“Mr Pitchford,” Rhys speaks to the director, turning away from Jack, “I believe we are ready to begin, and my people have everything set up.”</p><p><em>Except for one guy with extension cords</em>, Jack thinks, but he doesn’t make a jab about it. Somehow, he suspects he would face a similar fate as Adam – even though it is the truth, it would suddenly turn false, because Rhys wants it to. Some long forgotten fire appears in the pit of Jack’s stomach at the thought.</p>
<hr/><p>The day is hot, and it stretches on forever. After the stress – of calling the drivers with the equipment, chasing his employees around the whole studio, and leading the installation – is finally over, Rhys spends what feels like countless hours just standing around, chatting with the director – who turns out to be a rather boring man incapable of holding a meaningful conversation – and mostly watching people work.</p><p>This is hardly his first movie set, so it shouldn’t be that hard to handle, but somehow, Hyperion is different from any other studio that he ever worked with. Maybe it is their almost cold-blooded professionalism. It is very different from Rhys’ own approach, mind you. Hyperion workers – from all the camera, lights and sound men to the last barista in the cafeteria – work hard in fear of being fired. Atlas employees work hard in fear of disappointing Rhys. See – a difference.</p><p>Unfortunately, the atmosphere rubbed off on him soon, and Rhys began to worry about the tiniest things. Anything could break the contract. Although Tassiter was smart enough to realise that today’s setback was his fault, tomorrow it could be a problem with lighting – an equipment Atlas had brought – and Rhys’ chance at early retirement would be gone. And his dream is too close to lose now.</p><p>Rhys collapses on his bed at 23:10. It is past his bedtime, he is tired, but he should probably answer a few more emails. The first day was terrible. In the end, the holdup was not a real problem, because their schedule is not really packed. But that doesn’t mean it is acceptable. He needs to continue to be two steps ahead.</p><p>He huffs when he finally forces himself to pick up his phone and go through the emails that Yvette marked as important or urgent. Just fifteen, he tells himself, and then he will go to bed. Waking up for his morning run will be pain even without this, so he might as well do the work now. He can probably skip a shower, even though he stinks. No, no, he definitely <em>can’t</em> skip a shower, gross! Who put that thought in his head? That is just disgusting.</p><p>Rhys goes to bed at half past midnight, tearing his eyes from the bright screen. He barely gets to close all unnecessary tabs – tomorrow’s weather, a collector’s edition poster preorder, a furniture catalogue (how did that even get there?), and a shady esoteric site selling herbal teas (chamomile for good sleep, hibiscus for blood pressure, echinacea for common cold, nettle and raspberry leaf for fertility, sage tea for cognitive function… why was he even here?!) – before he falls asleep. He dreams about space battles fought in green boxes and by handsome warriors in armour of blue.</p>
<hr/><p>The air conditioning surprisingly did its job, and when Jack got back to his penthouse, he was greeted by a pleasant temperature. Mixing a cold drink was just a cherry on top, and he was sure his evening will be as uneventful as every other evening for the past few years. Empty house, a glass of gin &amp; tonic, silence, no-one pestering him to read the script or meet someone or practice.</p><p>Tomorrow, there will be more filming, he will probably be tired, maybe even hungry if the leeches, peacocks and monkeys don’t let him have lunch. There will be one nice thing about the day, though, that is for sure. He even enjoyed today a little, although most of it was spent avoiding people because there wasn’t any real work for him. Watching the young Strongfork man order his underlings around was worth the heat and the annoyance. And being able to show off in front of him? Well, Jack really likes to show off.</p><p>They did some of the walking scenes first, now that the green screen crew was finally ready. The main protagonist in varying number of clothes walking through the desert planet, running through the modern city and sneaking through an alien military base. He was busy being the most awesome actor out there, but he was sure everybody was looking. Wonder if it would be enough to shut that kid up? Maybe even get a reaction out of him, make him stumble over his words?</p><p>Smirking into his glass, Jack decides that his theory needs further testing. Afterall, what can happen? Rhys can clearly handle himself, and so can Jack. He likes his style, Rhys likes Jack’s (because who doesn’t). Maybe it is time to give dating a chance again.</p>
<hr/><p>Rhys considers himself to be in full control of his life. Wake up, run, breakfast, work. He doesn’t fall out of schedule, and when he does, he is able to get back to it asap. No-one has been able to catch him unprepared in years. He is <em>not</em> prepared to see Handsome Jack strip down to his underwear in front of him and shout at the director that if they want him in white underwear for the scene, they should get him some soon, or he shoots it in his silky red boxers.</p><p>Inevitably, Rhys’ eyes strayed down for the briefest second to check that, indeed, Jack was wearing a pair of boxer briefs made of dark red silk. Honestly, he expected them to be golden.</p><p>He made sure to look away before anyone noticed and mind his own business. While the scene – Jack quickly dressing up for battle – was being shot, he paid attention to his staff only. Just a few more days, he reminded himself, and he won’t be needed for the whole filming. Just to make sure everything works perfectly, and he can go back to animating in a nice, cooled office with only one motivational poster of the actor and not the real thing. He just needs to survive until then.</p><p>But Handsome Jack seemed set on killing him because the very next day he did something similar. He bumped into Rhys in just a loosely tied robe as he ran out of a dressing room right into another. He stopped for a second to look at whoever crossed his path, and when he saw that it isn’t any peasant but The Mage himself, he smirked and winked at him.</p><p><em>Oh, I see</em>… Rhys thought to himself, smirking only inwardly. On the outside, he didn’t let anything show, a mere look of disinterest on his face as he continued to walk to his destination. He especially didn’t let the fact that he forgot what his destination is show. He was used to being flirted with, but it had been years since someone had this effect on him.</p><p>But two can play this game.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. a dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The game is on. They go on a date.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Later in this chapter, Rhys is wearing the outfit form the 5th episode of Tales from the Borderlands and Jack is wearing his usual outfit but kinda… neater? No patchy sweater, everything nicely tucked in, etc.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack hadn’t doubted for a second that he still had this in him. Five days after meeting Rhys for the first time, they already had a lunch together. They went to a nearby restaurant, because Rhys would apparently never eat at a cheap cafeteria, and he ordered a vegan meal, even though he is not vegan, which Jack struggled to understand as he ate his steak.</p><p>Foreseeably, Rhys was fun to talk to. He was rational and knowledgeable, well-raised (which is rare for a snob kid), and he knew the game. They didn’t talk about it like a date; it was not a date. Not yet anyway. Jack took the younger man out to show him the value of porcelain plates, because he can’t really eat out of a plastic box every day. So, he had suggested he could take him out the next day, Rhys picked the place, and that was it.</p><p>They have a lunch together every day after that. It gives Jack something to look forward to. Something besides acting and being famous, of course. He forgot how good it feels to have company, talk to people who aren’t obsessed with him or scared of him.</p><p>Because that is another thing. A lot of people are afraid of Handsome Jack for more than one reason, but the main one is <em>Wilhelm and the corrective camps</em>. They are a thing in almost every developed country around the world with the heterophobia still rooted in general culture. The problem here is that Wilhelm is the Overseer – the head supervisor – of the biggest gulag on the continent, and also Handsome Jack’s good friend.</p><p>Frequently, famous people who came to contact with Jack and were suspected to be heterosexual disappeared, their name suddenly appearing on the list of names in the Friendship Gulag. Some people believed that Rhys Strongfork has or had an affair with his assistant, the woman that follows him almost everywhere, and Jack partly expected the young man to try to avoid him at all costs just because it was the sensible thing to do. But the young man dived into this head-first, not threatened by anything.</p><p>What is more, Jack soon learns that Rhys is not afraid to show him who sets the rules of the game. If Jack wants to go out with him, Rhys chooses the place (never going overboard with the price but not hesitant to pick the better venues in Helios), and he chooses when it is over. And the actor just rolls with it. He can follow the rules as long as he sees the prize at the end of the game.</p><p>On days when the clouds and rain finally allow for filming the scenes they need outside, Jack and Rhys don’t meet each another. That leads to exchanging phone numbers – Rhys’ initiative. On other days, Jack witnesses Rhys and his work. He doesn’t get to see any animations his company creates for the movie, and he doesn’t care for those. Watching the Mage order his workers around, often ending up making someone break down in tears if they fail, is much better than a space battle he is the main star of.</p><p>When even Nisha, whom he talks to maybe once a week, points out that the Strongfork name sounds in their conversations suspiciously often, after six weeks of lunches and random texting – mostly jokes from Jack’s side and selfies from Rhys’ – the Mage finally agrees to go on a date with the King of Stone, Handsome freaking Jack.</p><hr/><p>Rhys cannot believe it. Since he was a small kid, his father always told him that if he wants something in life, he needs to work for it. He wanted to be famous and rich, and so he created Atlas. That much worked, but that doesn’t mean he believed that he could get anything in life if he works hard enough, like his father likes to insist.</p><p>But now, Rhys was overworked but nearing having all of his dreams come true. The job was going well – even if Hyperion broke the contract now, they would get a lot of money for what they have already done. And…</p><p>“I still can’t believe you are dating Handsome Jack!” Vaughn all but squeals. “I, I, I mean, oooh man! Broooo!” He is quite freaking out, while Rhys was trying not to. Most of the clothes that he brought to Helios are laid out on various surfaces of his <em>Executive City View One-Bedroom Suite</em> that he is staying at while working with Hyperion (Atlas workers can travel from city to city every day or sleep in caravans or motels for all he cares, he will even give them bonuses to cover travel costs, but he needs to be comfortable).</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em> dating Handsome Jack, Vaughn,” he corrects him sternly. After a while of staring at his clothes he adds: “Not yet.”</p><p>“Wooow, Rhys,” Yvette laughs. “So humble! I knew you worship that guy but—”</p><p>He spins around, snatching a pair of colourful socks – <em>his</em> colourful socks – from her hands. “I own a few vintage posters; I <em>do not</em> worship him!” Contemplating the socks, he quickly decides that purple is not the right colour for today and throws them away with a sigh. “He is a celebrity, okay? I’m a little nervous, but I like him. You should talk to him sometimes; he is really—” He stops, wishing to take his words back, but it is too late.</p><p>“I should talk to him?” Yvette asks, smirking. “And end up in the Friendship Gulag? It surely sounds like a nice place to spend the rest of my life!”</p><p>“Please, don’t bring this up now,” he sighs and closes his eyes.</p><p>“She’s right, though,” Vaughn speaks up behind him. “Handsome Jack is a dangerous man. He’s not just an actor; he’s also a public figure, he has connections to politicians and the law enforcement.”</p><p>“Do I look like I plan to have trouble with the law?” Rhys asks incredulously, turning around to glare at his friend.</p><p>“No,” Vaughn sighs. “But that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Many have vanished —”</p><p>“Oh <em>please</em>!”</p><p>“— just because there were <em>rumours</em>. Somebody could accuse you publicly and —” Vaughn keeps raising his voice just as Rhys keeps interrupting him; “— we would never see you again! Not to mention Atlas! What would Atlas do without you?”</p><p>“The same thing it will do in a year? Someone else will take over, the difference being that I won’t get a fat sum of money because I will be <em>disappeared</em>…” He makes a face, trying to lighten up the mood, but his friends probably don’t see it for the intended joke.</p><p>“This is serious, Rhys,” Vaughn looks away, expression sour. “And you know what I think about you leaving Atlas. You can do more. Why stop now?”</p><p>Rhys’ shoulders stiffen, and he hopes his friends don’t notice. “We aren’t having this argument again,” he says firmly. His dreams are somewhere else, and he hoped his friends would understand that. Yvette as his assistant and Vaughn as the accountant should know how much it takes to have such a company under your command with no previous experience, and what toll it is taking on Rhys. The stress is not healthy. He is already rich and famous, so why would he keep putting up with it?</p><p>“Look guys, I appreciate your concern,” he speaks, trying to give them a warm, reassuring smile. “But I’m safe. A guy I find very attractive has interest in me. Obviously, he isn’t trying to get laid, because he would give up by now. There is no way this would end up with me in a gulag. I’ll be <em>fiiiine</em>.”</p><p>He turns to Vaughn, hoping to win his sympathy in the old-fashioned way. “Come on, bro… I’m gonna pick up the sexiest man alive. Aren’t you even a <em>little</em> happy for me? Isn’t this everyone’s dream?”</p><p>“I guess,” Vaughn shrugs. “He <em>is</em> considered sexy, though he was never my type. But he is exactly your type, that’s for sure.”</p><p>Satisfied with his answer, Rhys turns around again. “Yvette?”</p><p>“What?” she frowns. “Oh, right. Yes, sleeping with Handsome Jack has always been my dream! Go for it, dude, I’m happy for you!” She makes an obscene gesture and both Rhys and Vaughn groan.</p><p>“Unnecessary,” Rhys comments it.</p><p>“Rude,” Vaughn adds and then returns the gesture at Yvette.</p><p>“Okay, back to work,” Rhys decides, now that the fight is settled. He turns slowly, looking at every outfit they have put together for reassessment. “So, how do I want to look?”</p><hr/><p>Rhys is grateful for his ability to not be nervous about basic things like this. All he needs to do on a dinner date with Handsome Jack is to be himself, and the rest is not in his control, so there is nothing that he could change if he worries over it. He did everything in his power to tip the luck in his favour. Now he just has to shine.</p><p>Nobody is surprised when a white limousine stops in front of Rhys’ hotel at 7 PM exactly. He can only imagine Vaughn’s and Yvette’s reactions as they watch it out of their shared (they claim it was cheaper) suite window. There are probably eye-rolls involved, and maybe some jokes. He shakes his head, puts on a brilliant smile and steps into the car.</p><p>“Took you long enough, Pumpkin,” Jack smirks at him. “I almost thought you were more interested in my expensive car than in me.”</p><p>If you think that this is not the best way to say hello to your date, you are most probably right. But this is a Handsome Jack way to say <em>hi, I’m happy to see you</em>. Rhys knows this already, and he likes it, a lot. Jack is always straightforward, he doesn’t sugarcoat anything, and if he doesn’t like something about you, he says it, which Rhys likes in people.</p><p>“If you didn’t want me to stare at the expensive car you <em>rented</em> for tonight to show off, you should have picked me up in a taxi,” he answers with the same shark-like smirk. He holds Jack’s gaze long enough to see the glint in it. It is a small thing, and if he was being honest with himself, he was probably just imagining it anyway, but it seemed like Jack’s face brightened every time Rhys presented him with a challenge.</p><p>“Duly noted,” Jack chuckles and leans back. “Hopefully, the not leather-cushioned seats of a taxi don’t hurt your precious butt. Have you even ever sat on something like that?”</p><p>“No, and I don’t intend to,” Rhys says as he makes himself comfortable. He leans back in his seat, looking out of the window. Letting Jack pick out the restaurant this time was a little thrilling for him. After a month of knowing exactly where they are going, he let the other man take him anywhere he wanted. It was new and not necessarily good, but he forced himself to trust Jack.</p><p>It is not like he was scared – he just always wanted to be in control of or be familiar with the plan. So much can go wrong if you don’t know what you are stepping into, and Rhys was used to knowing it all exactly. That is how he got so far – by being perfectly in control of his life.</p><p>They arrive soon enough at one of Helios’ most fancy restaurant. Rhys contains any reaction to finding out, being hundred percent sure that showing his excitement would feed the actor’s already enormous ego too much. They step out onto a pavement lit by lampions. The sun is not down yet, but they are probably trying to create a certain atmosphere.</p><p>In the light and both finally fully standing, the men turn to each another to take an appreciative look. Rhys is wearing a black outfit, not afraid of the setting sun, and Jack is also wearing a many-layer piece. They both look handsome in their own way and are sure to attract a lot of attention. They <em>will</em> be seen, and even that thought sends a shiver down Rhys’ spine. Jack will be seen with him. He had to know that when he chose this venue.</p><p>“After you, Princess,” the actor gives him a knowing smile and gestures forward in a mock bow.</p><p>They walk in side by side, Jack’s hand ghosting over the small of Rhys’ back. Nobody asks for their names and they are taken to their table immediately. There are three candles burning in the middle of it, crystal glasses are ready, and the silverware is most definitely real silver. The venue is fancy in every sense of the word, and they should probably be wearing more formal clothes, but they don’t seem to be the only guests who decided not to wear a tuxedo.</p><p>Their waitress is an older woman with a warm smile. She hands them their menus and pours water into their glasses. Rhys chooses a meal easily, picking <em>Duck Breast with Pomegranate-Citrus Glaze</em>, something that was recommended to him in the past in case he ever treated himself to this place. Jack chooses a meal with a name Rhys can’t even understand, and he is sure it isn’t French.</p><p>“A national speciality from the country I was born in,” Jack explains, seeing his curious face. “Let’s see how much they screw it up!”</p><p>Just before the waitress leaves, Rhys asks for a wine that won’t probably go well with the meal of his choice (he silently apologises to his papa because he can almost feel him waking up from a nightmare somewhere in Promethea, dread swallowing him that he didn’t raise his son to drink properly), but it will give him enough strength to survive the night. Something about Jack’s innocent smile screams at him to get whiskey instead, or just run.</p><p>The dinner goes well, like a normal dinner date should go, for exactly <em>three minutes</em>. Jack compliments Rhys’ clothes, and Rhys repays it with a cheeky quip. They receive an appetiser and for a while talk about the restaurant being worth its rating. Rhys mentions the music, a pleasant lull of a single violin. Then, Jack goes straight to business.</p><p>It is <em>amusing</em>, in a way. As if Jack viewed the whole dating thing like a process based on cold logic. Two people meet criteria and then they can go to another level. He asks Rhys questions – some subtle and polite, some that make him a little hesitant to answer before at least two more glasses of wine are warming up his stomach – and he answers Rhys’ own questions.</p><p>Like five-minute dating, Rhys’ mind supplies when he notices a certain pattern in their conversation. You don’t have enough time, so you ask your partner as many questions as possible to find out whether you are compatible. But they have more than five minutes, and Jack listens to his answers carefully, as if storing each information precisely.</p><p>“I read a few interviews with you,” he says while they eat, and Rhys almost chokes, but he manages not to make a single sound. “I think it’s only fair – you know more about me than I know about you,” he adds, waving his fork around as he speaks. “You said you want to settle down and have a calm life, that being the Big Boss isn’t your thing. So, what are your plans, then? Kids?”</p><p><em>Fivefourthreetwoonezero</em>, Rhys counts in his head quickly enough that there is no pause before he answers. “I don’t want to have kids,” he says and dabs his lips with a napkin. “Where I grew up, it was considered the most important part of one’s life, but I don’t think that is true. I don’t have siblings, I never played with or babysat smaller kids,” <em>too many words</em>, he scolds himself, reaching for his wineglass, “I don’t see the appeal. All I want is to sell Atlas, buy a house and continue to do small projects. Something less stressful.” He sips his wine, preparing a question in his head, but Jack beats him to it.</p><p>“Yeah, kids aren’t for everybody. Unless one wants them, they are mainly a pain. Anyways, did I hear right <em>sell Atlas?</em>” He raises both eyebrows at Rhys, clearly more than curious about the explanation.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says, covering his unsure tone with a chuckle. “Atlas was an ambitious project, but I need to let go of it. It is too stressful, and for what? Money and fame? I like those, but I don’t want to stress myself to death for some extra when I can have a little less for much less stress. I proved everyone that I can do it, but now I can focus on what I really want. My dreams are somewhere else.” He is reminded of his conversation with his friends not long ago, and for a precarious moment, he fears that Jack’s reaction will be the same – telling Rhys that he is crazy, wasting his potential, doing something stupid.</p><p>“Glad to finally see someone who knows what they want,” Jack says, popping a piece of meat from his meal into his mouth and speaking over it. Rhys is reminded of his own plate and goes back to eating.</p><p>“I swear people nowadays just keep rushing forward without looking where their destination is. Sometimes, it is hidden on a side-turn. Some people are meant to end on the first turn, destinated to fetch people like you and me our coffee. But a lot of them just keep pushing forward until they get there and end up unhappy because they don’t like being on the top, it’s too hard.”</p><p>Rhys is actually warmed by those words, and to hide how big of an effect Jack’s little speech had on him, he asks: “And where is your destination?”</p><p>“Me?” Jack grins at him like one of his posters. “I’m always on the top.” He adds a wink and Rhys has to sip his wine again, not bothering to wipe grease from his mouth this time.</p><hr/><p>The warm feeling in Rhys’ stomach doesn’t leave by the time they have finished their meals. If anything, it grew stronger with every crude joke Jack makes out of nowhere. Rhys always keeps his face, even though the alcohol is making him blush, and he doesn’t have enough makeup on himself to hide it, and Jack always looks at him like he is his dream-come-true, a walking, talking challenge.</p><p>They order dessert, by that time basically <em>daring</em> each other. None of them had slipped yet – Rhys hasn’t shown any emotion that he didn’t want to show, and Jack wasn’t surprised by the younger man. Even when he asks about his friends, interesting people who media rarely talk about in a positive way, he manages to deflect it smoothly, telling Rhys about his high school instead. He is in control in a different way than him, and Rhys… freaking loves it.</p><p>They both get a serving of ice cream covered in crushed nuts, and the waitress pours hot chocolate over it after she places it on the table. If Jack was surprised that Rhys got something so unhealthy, he didn’t comment on it.</p><p>As they are leaving, nothing seems to have changed between them. Jack’s hand rests on Rhys’ lower back, they barely speak to each other besides joking around. They step into the limousine and sit in silence for a minute.</p><p>When the car stops and Rhys steps out… He cannot expect a kiss, or a hug, or a nervous stutter and a muttered <em>good night</em>. Jack will probably wave him off and meet him on Monday for lunch. Maybe he will want to do this again next weekend.</p><p>Rhys thinks about what he <em>wants</em> to happen. Closing his eyes for a second, he tries to imagine the situation unfold in a perfect way. Jack and he step out of the car. Jack beckons the driver to wait there for him as he accompanies Rhys as far as the hotel security will let him. Then, he places a quick peck on his cheek, winks and leaves. No, maybe he just kisses him as if they did it before. He doesn’t ask for permission, knowing he has it, and he doesn’t ask for a reassurance that there will be a <em>next time</em>, because he doesn’t need it.</p><p>“Earth to Rhys, do you copy?”</p><p><em>Earth to Rhys, indeed</em>. The young man realises that he slipped. Something is clenching his chest and he is desiring things that won’t be. It is almost as if he has feelings for Jack already, which is bad. Even if Jack has feelings for him too, how can Rhys know that this is safe? Maybe his friends are right. He shouldn’t be giving up control like this. Feelings will make him stupid and slow.</p><p>“Rhys.”</p><p>He makes a decision. They can’t do this again. Rhys is so close, too much is at risk. Yes, a nice man is a part of his plans, but this is—</p><p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Two warm hands cradle his face and force him to turn around, and then there are lips on his, hot and demanding. Rhys’ eyes snap fully open to see Jack kissing him. At first, he wants to pull away; he knows he should pull away, but… The lips are soft and warm and <em>Jack</em>.</p><p>It probably doesn’t last more than three seconds. Rhys is still dumbfounded when Jack pulls away, smirking at the state he left him in. He quickly collects himself, trying to make sense of things, of why did this make him feel warm and not disgusted or scared.</p><p>“Finally,” Jack says. “Are you listening now? Do I have your attention? Great! I said that I enjoyed this night. Do you want to go to your hotel now?” He gives him an expectant look, but not that kind you get when someone expects something in return for what they did. He is simply waiting for Rhys’ guidance through the rest of the night.</p><p>“Yeah, I’d like to,” Rhys says, hating how he sounds, still a little shocked. “Jack, I, uhm… What was that?” he asks, gesturing to his face.</p><p>“I…” for once, Jack hesitates to answer. “You looked kinda sad and I thought the cliché kiss at the end of a date will make you happier?”</p><p>Rhys blinks. “That’s… That’s not how…”</p><p>“Yeah, there are probably better ways to go about this,” Jack says, waving his hand. He looks a little annoyed as he mumbles something about <em>humans </em>and<em> manuals</em>.</p><p>They arrive at Rhys’ hotel and he steps out maybe a little too hurriedly. He stumbles on his way to his suite, all the while confused. Why is he still feeling warm? Is it the wine? Why isn’t he angry? Jack just… kind of did exactly what Rhys wanted, but in a more Handsome Jack way… but…</p><p>The door beeps as it opens and Rhys almost runs inside, heading to the small sitting area and falling into an armchair. He stares into the dark ceiling, thinking. This is a dangerous game. Handsome Jack is unpredictable. The King of Stone doesn’t understand humans in an emotional way. He sees their potential and ways to make them sing the songs he likes and dance to his music. If Rhys continues, if he truly <em>dates Handsome goddamn Jack</em>, he will be letting his guard down with potentially the most dangerous man he has ever met.</p><p>He wants it. He wants <em>him</em>. He wants to find order in this chaos and ride it like a spaceship. And he will. He had already proven the world once that he can do miracles. What is one more?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. friends and fires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What friends are for. Also, Jack starts a fire, and it is so good.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter re-uploaded and formatting hopefully fixed. :)</p><p>Rhys’ outfit later in this chapter: light denim jacket, creamy white V-neck, black skinny jeans</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rhys shuts himself in his room the next day. He busies himself with phone calls, emails, and revisions. Most of Atlas staff are currently working on animation, not filming, and because he only makes a trip to Elpis once or twice a week, there is a lot of material to be reviewed if he wants to personally guarantee for every part of their final product.</p><p>He isn’t sulking or pouting. He isn’t thinking about what happened yesterday, either. He is just… shut down for today.</p><p>Like a blessing from above, his phone rings. It hasn’t stopped doing that since he made the first call at 7 AM. Sometimes, it feels like the news that the boss is making calls spreads, and everybody tries to reach him at once, Sunday or not. Just today, he is thankful for that.</p><p>“Rhys Strongfork, how can I help you?”</p><p>Yvette thinks that he should be using something more… intimidating. She believes that everything is a part of the image they are building for him, and he agrees with her on that front, but she also thinks that one slip can shatter the whole thing. That is bullshit.</p><p>Right? One slip can’t bring him down…</p><p>Realising that he completely missed what the person on the other end of the line was saying, Rhys sighs silently. It is probably the best answer he could get for his unsaid question. Yes, he is in danger.</p><p>“I’m sorry, can you repeat that? The signal is bad here,” he says, trying to focus.</p><p>Somehow, Rhys gets through the call. He doesn’t remember the caller’s name, just that they briefly talked about some of the licensed software Atlas uses. What software company makes calls on Sunday? The phone rings again and Rhys mutters a silent <em>whatever</em> as he picks up. It goes about as smoothly as the previous call.</p><p>It is barely past 11 AM, and he feels like he had created more work for himself than what he had solved. There are three unread texts from Yvette asking about random calls she has received on her day off and one text from Jack that he pointedly ignores.</p><p>This all is so incredibly stupid. He is walking in circles, both in reality and in his head. Sighing for what feels like the hundredth time that day, Rhys leans on a wall and looks out of the window opposite to him. All he sees are tips of the highest building. His suite is right under the penthouse of one of the biggest hotels in Helios, after all. He should be grateful for the view, go and appreciate it. But he is scared of heights. Rhys Strongfork, The Mage, scared of heights and kisses.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters to himself, but if anything, it makes it worse. A memory crosses his mind, of the same words muttered in a dark car, of hot lips and two hands on his face.</p><p>The phone makes a sound as he clutches it too tightly. It is not a loud crack, but somehow, it gets through the static in his ear, hits him like a lightning bolt. He unlocks the device and opens the message app, looking at the text from Jack. It is a gif of a cat getting freaked out by a randomly placed cucumber. There is no text, just the gif.</p><p>Rhys sinks to the ground and fists his hair with both hands. Where is his resolution from last night? Why is he even going through this? Those are desperate times, and that calls for desperate measures. He calls Vaughn.</p><p>Both his friends arrive within two minutes of the call, as if they have been waiting for this since morning. He wouldn’t put it past them. They politely decline his offer to have lunch with him – vegan banana bread and homemade peanut butter (cheap and not the right meal for lunch, but he doesn’t feel like treating himself today) – and instead order pizza.</p><p>If Rhys had means to measure time without pointedly looking at his wristwatch or setting a timer, he would do that. His estimation is that it took his friends barely five minutes to start inquiring him about his date. When he came home, how was it, was there a happy ending. He thinks back for a while, trying to remember how this was supposed to help.</p><p>“He kissed me,” he says, stopping the flow of questions. It… solves absolutely nothing. “Out of nowhere. He just reached out and kissed me because I wasn’t listening to him speaking.”</p><p>Vaughn gives him a look that he cannot quite place. It is something between dread and amusement. Dread wins over. “What the hell, Rhys?!” he yells in a high-pitched voice. “And you are telling us just <em>like that</em>?! Like it’s <em>nothing</em>!”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> nothing,” he points out. Yvette snorts, but she lets Vaughn do the talking. For now, Rhys is sure. She is probably just planning on chewing his ear off later, telling him that he is stupid and crazy and whatever.</p><p>“He could have raped you and then make you disappear! We need to start packing our bags <em>now</em>, and maybe, maybe we can make it to the airport!” Vaughn continues to panic, pacing the room like Rhys did before.</p><p>Rhys, on the other hand, is completely calm. There is something about having an audience, after all. It helps him get a grip. He can suddenly think clearly. “Stop it, Vaughn seriously,” he says with a sigh and places a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “He just kissed me. He didn’t force me into anything. He let me choose whether I want to go home or to his place, he let me set the rules, lead the way, everything. The kiss was just… Handsome Jack, alright? I don’t think he would know what he did wrong if I confronted him about it, but I don’t think he is dangerous… Like that,” he adds the last words because he really likes to put his foot in his mouth apparently.</p><p>“And how dangerous is he, then?” Yvette asks, because of course she would notice the slipup!</p><p>“Look, that’s—” he stops, because that is exactly the reason why he called them. Handsome Jack <em>is</em> dangerous. For Rhys and him only, because he makes him lose control. But that is not the kind of danger his friends care about. And it is not a danger he fears, because the really worrying thing is that he doesn’t mind losing control for Jack.</p><p>“I don’t know what I want from you,” he admits.</p><p>“Advice, I guess. Or an ear,” Yvette suggests, walking to sit on the armrest of his armchair.</p><p>“Yeah, I…” He sags in the comfy chair, loosening his posture for a while. “I like him. I <em>did </em>want him to kiss me – that’s actually what I was thinking about when I wasn’t listening to him. And when he did it, it felt hella good. Like, the best kiss I have ever received. I’m crazy.”</p><p>“Yes,” Yvette chuckles. “Now go on.” This is the great thing about her. She is his secretary slash PA slash call centre slash best friends slash anything he ever fucking needs. Most of the time, she is joking at either his or Vaughn’s expense, but when someone is really hurting, she is the first one to notice and help.</p><p>“I like him,” he says, “and I know who he is. He is the <em>King of Stone</em>. The date felt almost like a job interview, just systematical questions to find out if we are compatible. It was…”</p><p>“Sounds like your style,” Yvette smiles, squeezing his shoulder. “You two were really made for each other, weren’t you?”</p><p>“Don’t bring up the dare again,” Rhys laughs dryly. Back in college, they got drunk once and played a game, and Rhys said something really stupid, something along the lines that him and Handsome Jack were made for each other.</p><p>Yvette pinches him in the side and stands up. “That wasn’t my intention, but I’m glad <em>you</em> brought it up. So, what’s the war plan? You always have a plan.”</p><p>“Can<em> I</em> have a say in this?” Vaughn speaks up, also standing, forcing Rhys to stand too if he doesn’t want to feel cornered by his own friends. “I think this is a bad idea. It’s known that Handsome Jack is a sociopath, or maybe a psychopath. He is a great actor, but he wouldn’t hesitate to sell his grandma. He is—”</p><p>“Perfect for Rhys,” Yvette interrupts him. “Think about it. When have you ever seen Rhys show emotions? They are both the same piece of psycho.”</p><p>“Uhh, he is showing emotions right now?” Vaughn points out, missing the point. If anything, Rhys is showing anger, because his friends are talking about him as if he wasn’t there at all.</p><p>“He is <em>letting you see them</em>, only because he trusts you. If he didn’t want to, you wouldn’t be seeing any of this. Sorry to bear the news to you, but Rhys is—”</p><p>“Okay, stop,” the mentioned man steps in, unwilling to learn what he is. “I think we can all agree that me and Jack <em>can</em> be a thing, and that I need to be careful. Furthermore,” he adds before Vaughn can say anything, “we can agree that the worst Jack can do to me is to break my heart. He can’t make me disappear or hurt me in any other way. I called you two because I… That doesn’t matter, I guess. The point is, I would appreciate if you supported me in this, as my friends. Can I ask this from you?”</p><p>He gives his friends an expectant look. In his opinion, he is not asking for much. From their expressions, it seems that he is asking them to kill someone for him.</p><p>Yvette breaks first. “Of course,” she says and her whole body relaxes. “You owe me one, but I’m with you in this. You two seem like a good match to me. Go for it, boss.”</p><p>They both turn to Vaughn who tries to remain averse to the idea for a while longer, but then he sighs too. “Okay. For you, bro, I will stop worrying for a while. If he is as nice as you claim, then I guess nothing can go wrong. He doesn’t even seem like someone who would suddenly leave you for someone else. Your heart is safe with him.”</p><p>“Thank you, Vaughn,” Rhys smiles at his friend.</p><p>“I have a question, though,” the shorter man avoids a hug and steps away, looking up at him. “Would you end this <em>thing</em> with Jack if we both insisted that it is a bad idea?”</p><p>He has to think about it for a long while. It had only been six weeks of more-or-less subtle flirting, and it already feels hard to imagine breaking it off. He wants Jack, wants him more every day. But this question is exactly the reason why he called his friends. He nods, first to himself and then again to them. “Yes,” he confirms. “I would. That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?”</p>
<hr/><p>Nights are the same for Handsome Jack, seemingly. His penthouse is empty, his drink made exactly as he likes it, by himself. He is not one to seek or desire human contact, but after a while, he catches himself initialising a chat with Rhys. Just every couple days, after work hours.</p><p>Sometimes, Rhys is slow to answer. Those are evenings spent working on animations, making calls, or answering emails. Other times, they chat about stuff. Rhys still likes to send selfies a lot, looking picture perfect on each and every one of them, even at night or freshly out of shower. Jack likes to share cat gifs.</p><p>He is aware that this is not the ideal stage to stop at. They talk a lot during the day, and with Rhys working on stage or nearby it is easy. But soon, it will be awkward to spend half a day together, lunch together, but only exchange texts in the evening. They need to move forward, or they will fall backward.</p><p>Yes, Jack is aware of such relationship things. He had been there before, done all of that. But it was so much easier with— Back then, it wasn’t him who made the first move in every direction, because it was obvious that he won’t do it, being comfortable where he is unless he is shown that he can have more. Anyway.</p><p>Jack considers the kisses exchanged with Rhys moving backward. After the first kiss, there hadn’t been more than a few pecks. He isn’t sure why, but Rhys is an interesting creature, and so there probably is a rather complicated and fascinating reason for this.</p><p>There is a little pressing problem – the fact that Rhys isn’t supposed to be there for the whole filming. He will move back to Elpis, or at least spend more time there. Jack is pretty sure that he wouldn’t be happy if Rhys and him gradually stopped seeing each other, because he likes that guy a lot.</p><p>Their weekly dates are a thing, but Jack might have miscalculated there, it didn’t lead anywhere. He takes Rhys out or Rhys takes him, but it just became the new norm for them. How is he supposed to move things forward? He takes a look around the apartment. Things like dating were never this hard in his marriage or with Nisha, Moxxi, or anybody else. But except for his first relationship, Jack doesn’t recall anybody he wanted as much as he wants Rhys, and that is why he didn’t care when his relationships ended, him being called a fool or made of stone.</p><p>The empty, too big rooms of the penthouse bear the answer to his internal musing. Jack smirks to himself and opens the chat app on his phone, typing a short ‘<em>wanna come to my place after im done shooting tomorrow??’</em></p><p>An answer pings immediately, a sign that Rhys is not working, otherwise it would be hard for him to look away from his laptop screen. (Jack has seen him walk around the studio with a phone in one hand, making a call, and his laptop in the other, and he wasn’t able to get his attention even as he started laughing loudly.)</p><p><em>‘Are you offering some of the scotch you bragged about, or should I pack an overnight bag? </em>😜😉😆🤭<em>’</em></p><p>Typical Rhys answer. Jack answers, obviously, that it can be both if the Mage is interested. And done. Move made. Life is so easy with Rhys. He is never giving him up.</p>
<hr/><p>Vaughn and Yvette, true to their words, support Rhys in the oncoming weeks. They don’t talk about the risks or dangers again, and they let him talk about his dates in lengths, late at night with a shared bottle of wine by a single lamp light as if they were teenagers again.</p><p>Life is great, and it gets better. Of course, nothing can be easy in this world. Eric, Atlas’ best and main technician when it comes to almost everything, was taken into a gulag overnight (fortunately, Vaughn and Yvette didn’t use it as an opportunity to bring their argument back), and Rhys had a hard time getting someone else to do his job at the Hyperion studio. He was also needed in Elpis more and more often, and the constant trips were tiring.</p><p>But right now, things are beyond great, because—</p><p>“You look like someone who is about to get laid,” Vaughn scoffs as soon as he walks through the door, holding it open for Yvette too.</p><p>“Railed into the mattress on ten thousand thread count sheets,” Yvette adds. Then, unable to resist the opportunity, she adds: “Oh, you’re holding the door for <em>me</em>? I’m flattered,” she makes a swooning gesture.</p><p>“How exactly —” Rhys asks, toothbrush still in mouth, “— do I look like someone who is about to have sex?!” His friends merely exchange a look and let themselves further in. Various outfits already cover the furniture, and they start debating about them, mostly using arguments like: ‘<em>too many layers to remove’</em>, ‘<em>this will get wrinkled up as soon as it lands on the floor’</em>, ‘<em>we need to show his hips when he doesn’t have any soft stomach’</em>.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Rhys goes back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth and blow his hair dry. He won’t be using much gel today, so he has to be very careful about it. He is lucky that it is raining outside, already quite cold for early fall, because he can wear some of his more elaborate outfits. If Vaughn and Yvette don’t rule them all out…</p><p>As expected, when he comes back from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy robe, there are only a few outfits left. His sleepshirt isn’t among them, and so he goes looking for it. It is an old shirt with the first Atlas logo. There are only three of them in this world, and his arrived too big, so he used it for sleeping.</p><p>When he brings it to his bag, Yvette wrinkles her nose. “Why do you insist on bringing this? Just sleep naked or steal his shirt.”</p><p>“Disgusting, Yvette,” he frowns and puts the shirt in, along with two of his prettiest (and best fitting) boxer briefs. And yes, they are made of silk. He still needs to repay Jack for what he did to him on his second day at the studio.</p><p>They argue for a bit about Rhys’ fashion sense, and about a hypothetical lingerie Rhys should be wearing for the date, and whether Yvette should go ahead and buy some for him and sneak it into his bag. Rhys’ scandalised face does nothing to deter them from their planning, and soon, all three of them are laughing and daring each other to wear a lingerie to work. In the end, they choose two outfits for him.</p><p>He is not nervous when he arrives to the studio, but the strings on his jacket look especially pluckable today, and the urge to tug at them, weave them on his fingers or just take them apart thread by thread is strong. The pants his friends made him wear are too tight. He does like to show off his assets, but he is also supposed to spend a few hours working. At least the simple cotton V-neck is not torturing him like the rest of his outfit. And his lucky socks, red with Atlas logo.</p><p>His bag is heavy on his shoulder, more than he is used to. It throws him off further, to the point Rhys considers turning back, catching the first plane to Promethea, digging a hole in his parents’ garden and burying himself in it. He can’t turn back now. He can’t be scared, that is bullshit.</p><p>Rhys walks through the corridors of the studio, partially hoping he won’t run into Jack before he disposes of his bag somewhere. Ideally, he would take his laptop and the smoothie he packed for himself and hide somewhere, much like Jack was hiding when he first met him.</p><p>“Heya, Cupcake!” But of course, this won’t be that easy. “Looking good!”</p><p>Rhys looks up to see the actor peeking out of a dressing room, dressed in a uniform and halfway through getting his makeup done for a scene they have been filming since yesterday. Fake charred skin hangs off his cheek, and if it wasn’t for the other half of his face being alright, Rhys would be sick from looking at it.</p><p>His confidence in himself slowly builds up again when Jack can’t seem to tear his eyes off him. Rhys is sure to put on a self-assured smirk on his face by the time Jack stops staring at his cleavage. It is not the first time he sees hints of his blue tattoos, and maybe he had even seen them before on Rhys’ social media (note to self – he should totally post a photo of himself on Instagram later), but today it seems to have a magnetic force, pulling his gaze down.</p><p>“See something you like?” he asks, walking closer to gently kiss the side of Jack’s face that isn’t covered in fake blood yet. Not to say hi; just to give him the opportunity to watch his ass sway as he later walks away. Needless to say, he doesn’t get an answer until an hour later when he meets Jack on set.</p><p>Tension builds up fast between them, multiplying every time their eyes meet. People begin to notice soon, and if they weren’t suspecting anything by then, they started whispering about the pair now. Rhys’ ego swelled when he heard gossips about himself and Handsome Jack.</p><p>But because Jack wasn’t one to play fair… let’s say ego wasn’t the only thing that swelled. Making sure to be seen by Rhys only, Jack took off his now completely ruined and tattered uniform in the middle of the corridor, leaving it on the floor for someone else to pick up and letting Rhys see almost everything. He made sure not to stare too long and gave Jack a disinterested shrug when he turned around to wink at him.</p><p>By the time the last of Jack’s scenes was shot to the director’s liking, Rhys was ready to tear his other uniform off of him. He impatiently waited for Jack to change into his normal clothes and then they finally left, probably to all the other staff’s relief, because their teasing didn’t go unnoticed.</p><p>They ride in one of Jack’s cars. His driver is about as talkative as Rhys’, so the ride is quiet, as they manage not to do anything inappropriate. (The motivation on Rhys’ side being the amount of makeup and fake blood that would get on his clothes, because Jack skipped shower.)</p><p>Tension boils up again when they are alone in the elevator. Jack has Rhys’ bag nonchalantly dangling off his hand, a little victory as he managed to pick it up before the younger man could carry it himself. Rhys eyes the bag, then Jack’s forearm, a fake bloodied scratch on his bicep, then his throat, his face… Well, he lost. There is no way back. He doesn’t want a way back.</p><p>Jack’s penthouse is stunning. It has a lot of open space, to the point it looks sad and empty, but in an elegant way, if that makes sense. There are also big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, but Rhys won’t even step close to those.</p><p>He is led to the living room area where he sits on a sofa that is much more comfortable than it looks. Jack pours him a glass of scotch and a gin &amp; tonic for himself, and after they clink their glasses and sip, he leaves to take a shower.</p><p>Rhys doesn’t stay in one place for long. As soon as Jack is gone, he stands up. He walks around the penthouse, curiously looking at a few rare pieces of art and the more and more crushing amount of empty space. He finds no photos or anything that would speak about this place being lived in, but at the same time, it looks like Jack designed the interior to his liking, it isn’t completely impersonal.</p><p>He is back in his seat when Jack comes back from the shower. He is only wearing a silky robe, and it only reaches to the middle of his thighs and is loosely tied at his waist. For once, Rhys allows himself to stare even though he knows he is being watched. He drains the rest of his glass and places it carefully on some hard surface. Then, he looks up.</p><p>His and Jack’s eyes meet, and Rhys is pulled forward. He closes the distance between them and buries his hand in Jack’s hair before bringing him down for a kiss with a sharp tug. The actor merely hisses before their mouths collide in a hungry kiss. Jack bites on his lip, and Rhys flinches a little at first because it stings. Before he can repay Jack, he is pushed away, and his shirt is pulled up over his head.</p><p>While Jack eyes him up and down, Rhys takes a moment to admire the muscular chest of the actor, even though it is hardly the first time he sees it. It is the first time he can <em>touch</em> it, and he does so, running his fingertips over a few scars on Jack’s chest. They look like they all come from the same injury, and he is about to ask about them, curiosity taking over, but when he looks up, he sees the same scar on the bridge of Jack’s nose.</p><p>Rhys frowns a little. “I’ve never seen that one,” he says out loud. He realises that it is the first time one of them spoke since Jack left to shower. He must have washed away some makeup covering the scar, the young man realises as he reaches up to run his fingers over this scar instead.</p><p>Jack watches him with what could be described as wariness, even though his face doesn’t change. He doesn’t move away or flinch when Rhys touches his nose, just blinks rapidly when he tickles the skin near his eye.</p><p>“Not many people know,” he says, startling Rhys. He chuckles and captures his hand, bringing it lower to kiss at his fingertips. “A crazy woman threw a can of acid at me. She was shit at throwing, though, so only a few little splashes hit me. She wanted to destroy my face but instead gave me a few cool scars on my chest and added twenty minutes to my morning routine, because this is a bitch to cover up.”</p><p>“Oh,” is all Rhys says. He is a little confused, too many questions in his head, but then Jack suddenly sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, and all the questions are gone. They can wait while there are more pressing matters in his jeans.</p><p>Nothing else is said before they kiss again, with even more passion than before. Jack takes a step back, with a hand on his ass making Rhys follow the movement. They walk through the same doors Jack walked in and out of before, and Rhys opens his eyes for a second to take in Handsome Jack’s bedroom.</p><p>It is nice. He goes back to kissing, but Jack pulls away soon to paw at his pants button and fly. He practically tears them open and reveals the golden silk of Rhys’ underwear. Jack chuckles and strokes Rhys’ growing bulge with one hand, tilting his head up to get better access to his mouth with the other. Another couple teasing strokes, and Rhys loses patience.</p><p>Jack lets out a little surprised sound when the robe is tugged open, and off his shoulders in the next second, but Rhys doesn’t celebrate the victory of surprising Handsome Jack as he pushes him back, making him fall on the bed. He tugs his own pants down next, and before his socks are off his feet, Jack is already pulling his underwear down his legs.</p><p>He climbs on the bed when he is naked, forcing Jack back against the headboard where he straddles his hips and captures his lips again. Jack lets him take the lead, but he sneaks one hand between them to give Rhys a few light strokes.</p><p>“Tease,” the young man hisses as he tries to thrust into the loose grip.</p><p>Jack grins at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Want something, Pumpkin?”</p><p>“Fuck me,” Rhys sighs shamelessly, going as far as to bite his lip and look up at Jack through his eyelashes.</p><p>His grin only widens as he nudges Rhys off his lap and reaches into a nightstand. “Need lube?” he asks, and Rhys chuckles at his tone. Almost as if he were asking whether he wants sugar to his tea.</p><p>“Yes,” he answers, taking the opportunity to watch the muscles moving in Jack’s shoulders. He isn’t as fit as Rhys, but there is still plenty to look at.</p><p>A half empty bottle lands in his lap and Jack adds another question, already reaching into the drawer again. “Condoms?”</p><p><em>Fivefourthreetwoonezero</em>. “No. Now come here,” he pulls at Jack’s arm, getting him to turn around enough to get to his lips again. He wishes to swallow the oncoming question.</p><p>“Are you on a pill?” Jack asks when he pulls away to suck in a breath. He mouths at Rhys’ neck next, giving him room to answer.</p><p>“No,” he breaths out, struggling to find his usual controlled tone. “I’m infertile. Zero chance of conceiving, both ways. Now fuck me already.”</p><p>Nothing else is said as Jack finally stops prying. His lips travel lower, down Rhys’ body to kiss at his navel and briefly suck at his cock. Rhys’ head falls back as he lets himself be pleasured, running his fingers through Jack’s hair lightly.</p><p>Jack is practical about prepping Rhys. He finds his sweet spot and prods at it every now and then, but he mostly focuses on spreading him open. Rhys couldn’t agree with him more on this. As soon as he considers himself ready, he pulls away from Jack and pushes him back onto his back. He straddles him and stops only to give him a few firm strokes with a lube-covered hand.</p><p>Jack helps him position himself above his cock and Rhys has to bat his hands away. He grits his teeth at the stretch when Jack finally penetrates him. He is big and curved in the right way and <em>perfect</em>. Too handsy, though, and so Rhys takes both his wrists and presses them down on the mattress on either side of his head, as he continues to slowly rock himself on the length.</p><p>Jack grunts and swears when Rhys’ ass touches his thighs, hips bucking slightly to urge him to start moving. The younger man takes a second to appreciate the view under him, Jack’s sweat-covered body and lips parted, showing teeth in an expression almost resembling a snarl. Then, he raises his hips until only Jack’s tip is still inside him and takes him all the way again in one thrust.</p><p>“Shit!” Jack arches a little off the bed, closing his eyes. “I knew sex with you will be awesome. <em>Fucking hell.</em>”</p><p>Proud of himself but way too wound up, Rhys sets a quick pace. Jack meets his every move with a thrust of his hips, and Rhys angles himself to get Jack to hit his prostate. When he does, he throws his head back and moans, relishing in the answering feral growl under him.</p><p>Rhys sighs again. “Make me come, Jack.”</p><p>It works like a spell. Jack’s thrusts grow vicious, almost angry, threatening to send the Mage tumbling down from his lap. Rhys lets go of one of Jack’s wrists to bring his hand to his crotch, and Jack jerks him off with a kind of urgency. He comes with a shout and falls forward, only to be pushed off Jack and on his back.</p><p>Jack enters him again, and then it doesn’t take long, and he is coming too, deep in Rhys’ ass. They both fight to catch their breaths, a few happy sounds escaping the younger man’s lips while the older one kisses at his heaving chest.</p><p>Eventually, Jack rolls over to lay on his back, offering his arm to Rhys to cuddle up to. He is met with a raised eyebrow and incredulous: “I hope you are not a cuddler.” Emphasis on <em>you</em>, because <em>Handsome Jack</em>, the freaking <em>King of Stone</em>!</p><p>“And if I am?” Jack teases, folding both his arms under his head instead, face challenging.</p><p>Rhys only gives him a disgusted expression as an answer and stands up, much to Jack’s amusement.</p><p>“Okay, got it, no cuddling allowed,” he chuckles. “Where have you been all my life? You are prime hot boyfriend material, Pumpkin.”</p><p>Rhys pauses his search for his clothes to look at Jack. Is this a Handsome Jack version of <em>I love you</em>? Nah, no it’s not. Why would Rhys even need Jack’s I love you? All he needs is Jack, his full attention and maybe a little bit of occasional spoiling.</p><p>“Just say I’m perfect,” he smirks. “I’m gonna shower now, because this is gross,” he makes a vague gesture covering him, Jack, and the whole room. “You can join me if you want.”</p><p>“No, thanks,” Jack snorts and closes his eyes, making himself even more comfortable.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. exception to the rule</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rhys learns a thing about Jack, and also that some exceptions are easily spotted, but some may fool everybody.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <strong>CW: public humiliation, abuse of power, violence, none of that against the main characters</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Hey, there is a little more angst in this chapter than in the previous ones. If you are not sure about it, here is a spoiler: Nothing happens to the main characters, but they witness a couple being arrested, and a soldier cuts open a person's clothes to reveal their genitals.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the morning, Rhys learns that Jack actually doesn’t share the bathroom with anyone, ever. He is pushed out of the door when he tries to enter while Jack is brushing his teeth, and he has to wait his turn, making breakfast for the both of them in the meantime.</p><p>He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious at all about the atmosphere in the penthouse after sex. A lot of sex, by the way. They woke up at some point into the night and Rhys’ favourite sleepshirt barely escaped their shenanigans. His underwear did not as Jack initiated their fun by mouthing at his cock through the silk of his boxers and then without it. To nobody’s surprise, Handsome Jack is <em>very good</em> with his mouth.</p><p>Rhys had repaid the favour after Jack left the bathroom, crowding him by a wall and sucking him until he swore and fucked Rhys again, leaning on the same wall. The younger man then took a shower and Jack finally pointed out that he does that a lot. By calling him a neat freak.</p><p>“That is called <em>standards</em>, Jack,” Rhys corrected him, smirking into his glass of orange juice. “That is something only us <em>snobs</em> do.” The atmosphere was relaxed, he decided. As close to domestic as he would ever get with Jack. He didn’t get a random hug from behind, but Jack recommended him to use the massage function in the shower. How sweet!</p><p>Later, as he steps into a car with Yvette, heading to Promethea to take care of the business for a while again, the first thing his friend does is calling Vaughn and saying <em>‘yes, he is alive’</em> in a grim tone, reminding Rhys that, of course, once they all meet in Rhys and Vaughn’s apartment (they share one nice place in the city centre), the gossip begins.</p><p>“Rate your night on a scale one to ten,” Yvette challenges him.</p><p>It is nine and a half. Getting fucked by the legendary man was a solid eleven on such scale, but the fact that they were asleep before the sun even reached the horizon took two points down. Waking up at midnight and having Jack suck him off added one point back but missing a run in the morning and only finding one kind of cereals in Jack’s kitchen brought it down a little again.</p><p>“Let’s talk real for a while, though,” he decides. “I think things are pretty serious between us and I would like to keep it that way.”</p><p>“Good for you,” Yvette chimes. Oh so subtly, she pushes her empty wine glass forward and Rhys refills both hers and Vaughn’s. He himself, he isn’t drinking today. He had been drinking more often than usual lately, and so he decided to pass today’s opportunity.</p><p>“Okay, but…” Vaughn speaks up, trying to look sober. “What are <em>things</em>? What is Jack to you? Boyfriend?”</p><p>Rhys muses for a while. “I don’t know,” he shrugs nonchalantly, wrecking his brain for the correct answer. “We never talked about it.” One look from his friend tells him that this is not a good answer. “We probably should talk about it, right?” he asks, flashing an innocent smile, trying to play the socially awkward weirdo Yvette claims he is.</p><p>Yvette sighs. “With anyone else, I would be screaming yes, dumbass, but you two… I wouldn’t be surprised if you somehow made it work without ever treating each other like a normal, human partners.”</p><p>Rhys frowns “I don’t like the way you emphasised human.” As always, his complaint isn’t taken seriously.</p>
<hr/><p>Encouraged by his friends, Rhys stands in front of Jack’s penthouse. It is not much different from his usual Sunday. He only spends two days a week in Helios now, and he spends both at the actor’s place. He is let in by an AI after punching a security code into a hidden panel, which is a sign that Jack is not home yet.</p><p>“Kitchen lights on,” he orders. He is not a fan of this kind of technology, but he appreciates being able to turn the lights on when his hands are full. If the government listens to him putting his packed lunches into the fridge through the devices, well, what can he do?</p><p>As he hangs his clothes on a hanger in the bathroom – because there is no space for his clothes in Jack’s closet – his gaze falls on the spare toothbrush he keeps here. According to his friends, there are mixed signals, and he is vaguely aware of them, but he likes what they have. There are strict rules, and whoever thinks that this is not what Rhys wants in his life is not his friend.</p><p>“Hey, babe!” Jack speaks in the bedroom. Rhys didn’t hear him come in and he startles, wishing Jack didn’t find scaring him to death funny. His cackling echoes through the penthouse, notifying Rhys of his position furthermore.</p><p>“Yes, I arrived couple minutes ago,” he says, walking out of the bathroom to greet the actor. Jack is not listening, frozen mid-step on the way towards his bed. There is a script in his hands, and he is flipping through pages.</p><p>“What are you reading?” he asks curiously, walking to him to peek over his shoulder.</p><p>It takes Jack a few minutes to answer, and by the time, Rhys has recognised the movie they are still filming. Jack was free for a few weeks, but he is shooting again on Monday. “Just looking up the damn numbers,” he mumbles, tapping a line marked by a pink marker and underlined three times by a pencil. He opens his mouth again but doesn’t say anything else, forgetting about Rhys completely as he tries to burn the long number, one that allegedly describes Andromeda’s trajectory towards Milky Way, into his memory.</p><p>The night is spent like that – Rhys mostly ignored, sitting in a comfy armchair and typing email after email, and Jack reading the script, until they are both tired and go to bed – Rhys first, because he doesn’t want to ruin his daily schedule.</p><p>Their shared days are something new and he doesn’t understand why it makes him feel so good. He never would have thought that just being in the same house as another person can be good. He has to sleep on his right side every night because the digital clock on Jack’s nightstand is annoying, and sometimes Jack snores, but Rhys wouldn’t exchange it for anything. He sleeps better when he is with Jack.</p><p>“Just to be clear, do I call you my boyfriend?” he asks in the morning as he eats his porridge with a tahini drizzle, toasted sesame seeds and banana, casting judging side-glances to Jack’s buttered toast with bacon and scrambled eggs.</p><p>“Of course, dumdum,” Jack answers into his coffee cup. He looks up at Rhys with a raised eyebrow, silently asking <em>what the hell did you think?</em></p><p>Jack will often get annoyed by people being emotional. He finds them funny sometimes, but as soon as it directly concerns him, it becomes a pain in the ass. Rhys has received many judging looks, snorts and shakes of head when he acted in a way that Jack found stupid. Of course, while Yvette gave him nervous glances, Rhys only chuckled, finding it easier to find his grip when Jack harshly brought him back to reality like that.</p><p>The actor called almost everything drama. Rhys was sure that later this day, this conversation will be referred to as such. He smiles to himself, smug about knowing Jack so well.</p><p>Something else happens later that day too. To Rhys’ agitation (and Jack’s surprise at Rhys’ agitation), three men are let into the penthouse without previous warning. They install a new piece of furniture in Jack’s bedroom, a modern-looking chest of drawers. Rhys is told that this is his space to put his clothes in, and his exasperation at being disturbed from work by strange people moving through the house while he is wearing sweatpants dulls a little.</p><p>“Uhm, why now?” he asks as he checks the space out. Jack just shrugs.</p><p>“It’s obvious,” Yvette says later as they drive to Elpis. It is a rarity nowadays that she even goes with him. She has been really snappy about these unnecessary trips and refused to go unless there was real business being discussed in Helios. “He is trying.”</p><p>Rhys waits for the <em>obvious</em> explanation but nothing else comes. “Trying to do what?” he asks, thinking that maybe Jack has rubbed off on her and she will also be forgetting about his existence in the middle of a conversation.</p><p>The woman smiles with a raised eyebrow, a knowing expression. “He is <em>trying</em>,” she repeats. “He wants your relationship to work, he is aware of his faults, or what he thinks are his faults, or what he thinks people think are his faults, and so he is trying to be better.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain the wardrobe,” Rhys frowns, trying to make sense of Yvette’s rambling. She never rambles like that, what the—</p><p>“For the slow kids – Handsome Jack thought that he did something wrong if you didn’t realise you are dating. So, he searched the echonet for advice. See,” she pulls out her phone and types <em>‘how to make it obvious that you are interested in a relationship’</em> into the search bar. The first result is headed 17 Tips For Healthy Relationships. The first few ones concern physical contact, and the first one that doesn’t is <em>‘Make a room for their clothes’</em>.</p><p>This is how Rhys learns that Handsome Jack looks for relationship advice on the echonet. He doesn’t stop laughing for two weeks after that. His midriff is constantly aching from all the laughing, choked down chuckles and giggles. But he is also warmed by the gesture. Jack did this because he thought Rhys is asking about their status because of insecurities, and he went out of his way for him rather than just removing Rhys from his life.</p>
<hr/><p>“Do you think that the good things don’t last?”</p><p>This is how his end begins, Rhys thinks back to this day after a few weeks. A lunch with Vaughn and a silly little question.</p><p>“How should I know? Maybe Atlas will cease to exist after I leave it. Maybe I will die in a car crash caused by a drunk driver, and there will never be a great man like me in this world again. Maybe your macaroni will go cold before you even touch it for the first time…”</p><p>His friend seems to shake the mood off for a while after that, finally beginning to eat. Rhys wants to ask him about the thing that is clearly bothering him. He doesn’t want to do that in a public restaurant, but he will ask about it in the evening after he comes back from the hair studio, pedicure and massage. He had dedicated this day to himself, and that is also why he invited his friend for lunch.</p><p>The mood comes back while they walk through the streets of a popular Elpis district called Concordia. Rhys has his jacket that cost too much money flung nonchalantly over his shoulder, sunglasses on his face and a huge grin. Vaughn looks distraught as he keeps looking behind their backs and fiddling with his thumbs.</p><p>Rhys is about to ask what is it, now that they are in a less public area, but his friend speaks at that exact moment. “What if the <em>thing</em> with Jack suddenly ended? How would you feel?”</p><p>He can’t answer that question. “It would certainly be a shame,” he says. “Vaughn, what is—”</p><p>His question is interrupted by a high-pitched cry. Both men’s attention is drawn towards a commotion across the street. Everyone is looking that way.</p><p>Four soldiers in yellow armour are fighting with two women. They are Wilhelm’s soldiers, easy to recognise. Jack had once bragged to Rhys about helping design the armour. He had seen them many times in his life, but not since learning that tidbit of information, and it is everything he can think of for most of the scene that plays out in front of them.</p><p>No-one seems to be able to tear their eyes off it as the two women trash and scream and beg in the iron grip of the soldiers. “Noooo! It is just one big misunderstanding, please!” one of them cries, mascara streaming down her face. “You need to believe us! We are <em>married</em>!”</p><p>Yellow-clad soldiers can only mean one thing. The women, or one of them, are accused of heterosexuality. This will not end well for them, and everyone knows, yet everyone watches with a batted breath.</p><p>“Shut up!” one of the soldiers screams, and the whole street goes silent. “Don’t think we don’t know. The Overseer knows everything. You’re fake!” He points an accusing finger at one of the women and then steps closer. A brief conversation happens between them that is too quiet for Rhys to hear. The woman mostly shakes her head while her wife cries and wails, the sound echoing between the buildings.</p><p>Suddenly, the soldier pulls out a knife and cuts through the silent woman’s skirt, sending it pooling at her feet. She gasps in shock, as do many of the bystanders. Her underwear is cut next and her genitals are revealed to the crowd. Or more exactly, <em>his</em>.</p><p>The person is a man. Rhys was prepared to see woman genitals, her— <em>his</em> visage completely fooling his senses. The soldier doesn’t look surprised at all, and he smirks while the man’s head falls down in shame, struggles quieting.</p><p>“For sexual intercourse between a male and a female,” the soldier speaks loudly enough for the whole street to hear, “for possession of multiple phallic shape sex toys attestably purchased by Mrs. Reis, for feigning marriage—”</p><p>“It’s not fake! We <em>are </em>married!” the woman screams but she receives a punch to the gut and finally stops talking, only sobbing loudly and convulsing in the soldiers’ hold.</p><p>“— a sacred act between two people of the <em>same</em> gender,” the soldier growls angrily, “you are arrested, and you will be taken to the Friendship Gulag immediately!”</p><p>A gasp sounds somewhere on Rhys’ left, as if someone were surprised, as if there was any other way this could end. The soldiers allow the man to cover himself up with shreds of his skirt and the pair is led away. The crowd starts dissipating.</p><p>“We should go,” Rhys nudges his friend, who looks shaken by the scene. “It’s none of our business, come on.”</p><p>“I should probably head home,” Vaughn says in a hushed voice that betrays how much not alright he is. “I have some work to do there.”</p><p>“Yeah, you probably should,” Rhys agrees, thinking that a little bit of peace and alone time will do his friend better than his clumsy advice. “Take a nap first, eat ice cream, maybe call Yvette.”</p><p>Vaughn snorts.</p>
<hr/><p>Handsome Jack can treat himself alright, but it is usually expensive alcohol or other expensive things. Rhys doesn’t have to go to the most expensive hair studio to treat himself (but he will pay for all the addons, like head massage and special treatment). He gets pedicure and manicure, a massage and some extra, like a little shopping trip that yields him a new pair of socks and two nice dress shirts. Both equally expensive.</p><p>A stop at his favourite bar – a smoothie bar – brings his good mood from the past weeks back, and he almost forgets about the situation he witnessed in the afternoon. Of course, things like that stick with people. Well, not all people, obviously. Jack probably wouldn’t even notice unless the noise was bothering him, and he would shrug it off as soon as it was over.</p><p>It was about 8 PM when Rhys arrived home, the shared apartment in Elpis, and he half expects Vaughn to either be asleep, or be buried deep in work, mumbling numbers and shuffling papers.</p><p>He is rightfully shocked when he finds Vaughn heavily drunk on the sofa, crying and swearing at a romantic comedy playing on the huge TV they basically have only for playing videogames. Judged by the smell, and multiple stains on his clothes, he managed to throw up on himself at some point and forget about it.</p><p>“What the hell, bro?!” Rhys yells from the door, staring wide-eyed at the mess that became of their living room. “Seriously, what— What’s going on?” He forces himself to calm down, then, remembering that something was bothering his friend, and he walks closer, shoving down his disgust and sitting near enough to be considered friendly.</p><p>Vaughn shakes his head, and then seems to be sick from doing so. Rhys grabs an almost empty bucket of melted ice-cream and holds it in front of him in case he throws up again.</p><p>“‘S worse!” Vaughn yells way too loudly, and then sobs, snot and tears rolling down his face.</p><p>“What happened, bro? You are not usually like this...” Rhys sighs and gestures towards the mess around them.</p><p>He expected a barely coherent answer with explanation. He didn’t expect Vaughn to go into full hysteric mode, crying and babbling.</p><p>“Bro?” Rhys is unsure at first, but then does what anybody would. Screw his nice clothes; he hugs his friend tightly, stroking his hair in order to help him calm down. Still, this can still turn out to be a nice day, if he manages to help his best bro. But as he listens closely, he stills, fear creeping down his spine. Among the words Vaughn is spitting out are <em>kissed</em>, <em>woman</em>, <em>love</em>.</p><p>“Oh no…” Rhys lets out as it finally dawns on him. “We have a <em>big</em> problem, don’t we?”</p><p>But he is Rhys Strongfork, the founder of Atlas, the most awesome 24-year-old out there and the best friend Vaughn could ever have. They can make this... work. “Look, Vaughn, listen to me,” he forces his friend to look at him by holding his cheek. “I will figure something out. I will… find a way, okay? I can work for exclusive clientele, move somewhere else, and you can… anything. We can hide, pretend. You will not get caught, okay? I need you to believe me.”</p><p>His words seem to work partially. His friend cries for a few more minutes, cursing the whole world and the pair in the TV who just got engaged. Then, he allows Rhys to help him wash and put him to bed, a bucket at hand in case he gets sick during the rough night ahead of him.</p><p>Vaughn started rambling a little when he was seated in bed, and Rhys felt obliged to stay by his side for a little while longer. Of course, most of what Vaughn said didn’t make sense, but he got the message. The hetero pair that was arrested in New Haven was brought up, and of course, Handsome Jack.</p><p>With that name echoing in his mind, Rhys sat down in the living room. He couldn’t stay in place for long, though. The words kept echoing, resonating, shaking him. A man loves a woman. There is nothing wrong about love. He had known Vaughn and Yvette for years, they were… They were his friends. They were perfect for each other.</p><p>Rhys couldn’t pace. That would be— No, he must not be nervous. He starts cleaning up the place, picking up trash and disinfecting everything that was in the blast radius of the drunk-Vaughn-bomb. He finds some spots on the sofa and decides that they can’t wait for the maid, they need to be cleaned right now.</p><p>An hour later, the apartment is clean, and Rhys is momentarily shocked at how easy it was. But then the thoughts swarm him again. Handsome Jack. The Friendship Gulag. The crime of heterosexuality.</p><p>“Fuuuuuck,” he sighs, leaning on the wall and banging his head against it. They are in deep trouble.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. push and shove</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rhys underestimates Jack, and causes drama. He is generally being a stupid pumpkin. He loses.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While Vaughn was struggling with hangover, Rhys felt like he was the one sobering up. The optimism he feigned for the sake of his friend’s sanity and peace had evaporated completely, leaving only fear and worry. Eating carrot puree with mango pieces (and much more lemon than recommended to cover the awful taste of mango), he tried and failed, again and again, to get that mindset back. He felt desperate, and the leftover alcohol from yesterday looked suddenly inviting, but he said no to casual drinking a while ago.</p><p>As his friend begins to shake his headache off, he begins explaining what was only slurred words yesterday. Rhys learns that Yvette had known this about herself since she was a little girl. She was never attracted to women, but she knew what she had to do to survive in this world. In her opinion, acting hetero publicly, making so many straight jokes and constantly pretending she is hetero for the sake of comedy was the perfect alibi. And it worked on Rhys and Vaughn.</p><p>That was until Vaughn began to feel something towards her. They started meeting privately a few weeks ago, kissed for the first time this week. And seeing the hetero pair yesterday be publicly exposed and found out scared Vaughn, and as a responsible adult he decided to try to drown his worries in drinking.</p><p>“Tell me, Rhys, how bad is it really?” he asks, gazing up and looing miserable. “Tell me that, I don’t know, that you have a plan!”</p><p>“Vaughn, I—” he wants to say something reassuring, but his words fail him, and the other man speaks up sooner anyway.</p><p>“I know what I have to do!” he says resolutely. “We – me and Yvette – should disappear. Pack the necessities and move countryside. Many have done that; it’s possible.”</p><p>It <em>is</em> the best thing to do, he is right. But Rhys’ brain finally kicks in and he frowns. “You are an employee on high position in Atlas. People will notice immediately, and they will ask questions. Vaughn, I—”</p><p>“Lie to them.” He gives him such an expectant look.</p><p>Of course, Rhys could lie to them. He is pretty sure he would be able to act shocked, betrayed, disgusted, if police came to question him. The yellow-clad soldiers… maybe. But Jack… “Jack reads me like an open book,” he says out loud. Well, that is not really true. Jack is still The King of Stone, and he doesn’t notice when something is bothering Rhys or when he backs away from a fight because he is annoyed, not because he really agrees. But Jack seems to always <em>sense</em> when something important is going on.</p><p>For example, that day he was staying at Jack’s and he abandoned his lunch to pick up a call from his papa. Jack doesn’t like it when Rhys does that, for whatever reason. (It is true that he can lose himself in work rather quickly and the food usually goes cold by the time he is finished.) But this was important – his father had been in a hospital with a bad case of kidney stones and his papa called to tell him he had been released.</p><p>Unexpectedly, Jack was not annoyed by him leaving. He reheated Rhys’ portion and ordered ice-cream for dessert (the food delivery services were always surprisingly fast when the famous actor made an order). Rhys didn’t feel relieved that his father is out of the hospital – he didn’t feel worried in the first place, knowing it would take much more to take down the mighty Strongfork. Therefore, Jack’s behaviour surprised him. Rhys was getting what could only be called special treatment that day, even though he didn’t need any. Or he thought so.</p><p>It was late in the evening when he found himself messaging his papa to keep him updated on his father’s health. Maybe he cared a little bit more than he admitted to himself. Again, he felt bad about the revelation and not the situation itself, but Jack was there, keeping him grounded with well-aimed terrible jokes and a cup of tea at the ready.</p><p>“He will know,” Rhys sighs in the present.</p><p>“Well, then…” Vaughn stops himself, some of his frantic energy leaving him. Rhys would like to know what his friend wanted to suggest. He feels kind of helpless here. He hates it, and it is frustrating, and this is Vaughn’s mess in the first place. He should be the one suggesting solutions.</p><p>“Then what?” he asks.</p><p>“Nothing, Rhys,” Vaughn begins to squirm and fidget. “I just… You knew that Handsome Jack is dangerous…”</p><p>Only for Rhys, though. He hadn’t been dangerous for his friends before.</p><p>“We are not talking about that,” Rhys decides and stands up. It is about time he gets ready for work, and he ignores his friend’s hurt expression as he leaves.</p><hr/><p>Rhys is not a huge fan of fear. He believes that by having full control of his life, there won’t be anything left to be afraid of. But control is slipping through his fingers. It begins at the Atlas headquarters, the studio. He used to walk through the building, visit his employees and ask them about their progress. Now he also walks through the corridors, but he doesn’t visit anybody. He feels like he is being chased, constantly aware of his surroundings. Every flash of yellow makes him flinch.</p><p>He cannot look Yvette in the eyes. He feels weird about her, and it feels wrong, but he just can’t shake off the feeling that she betrayed him somehow. All this time, all the jokes about his butt have been half serious. All this time, she knew that she is putting her friends in danger, because if she were ever found out, they would be also arrested, and probably sentenced without a process.</p><p>Love is blind, but did Yvette, his ever so sharp PA, not see that by having an affair with his best friend she is putting said friend in the greatest danger of his life? It all feels like Yvette’s fault, and Rhys won’t look her in the eyes, spending their car rides or office hours either working or tweeting about whatever crosses his mind.</p><p>Nobody comes to get them, of course. No police, private investigators or soldiers enter the Atlas ground, but there is no relief for Rhys as he finds himself calling Jack on Friday night, explaining that he won’t be travelling to Helios this weekend because there is a lot of work to do in Elpis.</p><p>All he gets for an answer is: “Okay.”</p><p>Why did he expect otherwise? Did he expect Jack to beg him to come anyway? Did he expect him to casually tell him that he is being arrested for hiding a heterosexual in his house? Rhys goes to bed without dinner that night, too sick with himself.</p><p>He doesn’t talk to Vaughn either. No matter how hard they try, they can’t find a topic to talk about that isn’t serious. And when it comes to seriousness, it always spirals into passive blaming. Vaughn and Yvette would be safer if Rhys didn’t make Atlas so viral and popular on social media, and if he didn’t date the freaking Handsome Jack. Rhys would be safe and happy if his two friends of opposite gender didn’t decide to fall in love in each other.</p><p>“I thought I could count on you, Rhys,” Vaughn sighs one day, and since then, they don’t talk anymore besides occasionally exchanging a few words when they bump into each other in their shared space.</p><p>The second weekend, Rhys can’t say that he doesn’t have time for travel, because his presence is requested in Helios on a little party. Hyperion likes to do parties, as it seems, and there is one after the last scene is filmed. Hyperion will now focus on editing and Atlas on animating. Only a few Atlas employees are asked to join, but the big boss is essential.</p><p>Vaughn stays in Elpis, as an accountant there wasn’t really a reason to invite him. But Yvette attends, and so does Rhys. He looks stunning as ever when he walks onto Set 1, that was stripped of all unnecessary furniture, constructions and fake sceneries to host the party. Under his smirking face he is nervous and counting seconds until something bad happens.</p><p>“Relax, boss,” Yvette nudges him. “This is a party. That is a thing humans do to celebrate. Celebration is a social construct that—”</p><p>“<em>Very</em> funny, Yvette,” he snaps at her. “Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go find my <em>boy</em>friend.” Putting emphasis on the word boy feels unnecessary, but he could have done worse, said something mean. The woman doesn’t seem to mind anyway as she heads in a different direction, waving at Mr Tassiter’s awkward secretary.</p><p>Rhys watches for a while as Yvette shoots down three bad flirting attempts in a short period of time. He cannot help it but try to compare it to the past. Yvette never hesitated to flirt to get somewhere, yet here she is refusing even a drink. She is putting them all in danger, isn’t she?</p><p>“Heya, Cupcake!”</p><p>Rhys yelps as Jack suddenly stands right behind him, a hand snaking around his waist. Jack is a sneaky bastard, and he is used to it, but the situation is different.</p><p>“Will you stop scaring me like that?!” he yells as he turns around. Immediately, he feels his cheeks heat up, and he hopes his makeup can cover most of it. A few people turned around and saw him shout, and it makes him even angrier, because now people have seen him slip.</p><p>His anger must go unnoticed, as Jack rolls his eyes. “It was just a joke, don’t be dramatic,” he says condescendingly, steering him towards a bar in the corner of the room. It is partially made of some props from the spaceship scenes, and it looks pretty good, but Rhys can’t appreciate it now.</p><p>“I don’t feel like drinking today,” he says as he carefully extracts himself from Jack’s arms. There seems to be a lot of alcohol, some fruity drinks that look tempting, and a good brand of scotch, but he needs to keep his head clear.</p><p>“Oh, so I should get you a nettle and raspberry leaf tea instead?” Jack makes a half-disgusted face, though he is clearly amused. And maybe serious, if Rhys had learned anything about him in the past months.</p><p>“No, I just don’t want to drink alcohol tonight. There is a lot of work at Atlas, and I’ll have to go back tonight and get up early.” After a brief pause, he frowns slightly and adds: “And the tea is <em>great</em>. It’s healthy.”</p><p>“It smells like skagpiss,” Jack snorts. “And if it’s healthy, I bet you ain’t supposed to be drinkin’ it in buckets.”</p><p>“It’s a 700 millilitre mug, Jack,” he corrects. “And I’ve only been drinking one a day in the past two weeks; that’s not enough to poison myself with it.” </p><p>“Anyway,” Jack shrugs. “I thought you’ll be staying at my place tonight. Are you really gonna be driving at midnight?”</p><p>“My driver’s gonna be driving,” Rhys points out. He would like to say something smarter or do something to squash the uneasy feeling at turning Jack down again, but he can’t. If Jack finds out about his friends, they will be in danger.</p><p>This is also Jack’s fault, a little. Rhys’ life was going just great, but his boyfriend – another feeling he doesn’t need right now raises up at the word – decided to be a famous hetero hunter!</p><p>“I won’t stay here long, either,” he says, trying to remain cool as he speaks. “I don’t have time to party right now. Animation is not an easy process, and I’m still training our new technician.”</p><p>“Ah, okay,” Jack shrugs again. There is nothing in his face that would tell Rhys what he thinks. No remorse about a skilled man that is now doomed to die in a work camp, no annoyance, nothing. He probably doesn’t even miss Rhys, and maybe that is for the best.</p><p>Rhys leaves not long after doing the obligatory mingling, chatting with Tassiter, Randy, Janey and Athena, and a few more people he got acquainted with, briefly. At home, he collapses into bed after kicking his chair angrily, and then again in frustration at being so emotional lately.</p><p>In the morning, Rhys is woken up by his alarm clock. Not a minute later after he leaves the shower after his morning run, someone rings the doorbell.</p><p>Putting on his clothes as fast as possible, he stumbles into the living room to see that Vaughn had already answered the door. He is standing very still and staring at Handsome Jack himself who seems highly amused.</p><p>“Hey, short stuff! Got yourself a boyfriend, or a piranha? This are some nasty bruises!” he points at the short man’s neck.</p><p>“I, uhm, I…” Vaughn stutters, barely audible.</p><p>Rhys steps in, coming to stand behind his friend and frowning at Jack. “Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, trying to guess. There are no soldiers behind him, and honestly, that is not the first thought that had crossed his mind. No matter the awkward situation they are in, Rhys doesn’t believe Jack is a bad person. He is just made of stone.</p><p>“Surprise, Pumpkin!” the actor grins, lifting a white plastic bag with something. “I know you are busy, and you’ll probably be in a lot of stress, so I got you a healthy breakfast, lunch and snacks to save you some time!” Not waiting for a reaction, he pushes his way into the apartment, curiously looking around.</p><p>It is a nice, neat place. There are many more decorations, photos and personal stuff than in Jack’s penthouse, and the colour scheme is very bright – white and spring green. Jack doesn’t look disappointed at what he finds, and after he deposits the bag in the kitchen, he plops down on their sofa, a framed photo that he snatched from somewhere in his hand.</p><p>“Ah, the scary chick ya call your employee but let her boss you ‘round,” he smirks, studying the years old photo of the three friends. “You looked better without the goatee, Vann. Your partner appreciates your style?” he turns to him.</p><p>When his eyes lock with Rhys’ for the shortest while, the young man feels freezing cold dread fill his body. For some reason, he feels like he just looked a shark in the eyes, and Jack’s grin is not helping. Nor is the fact that he had never witnessed Jack making a casual conversation.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” he asks again, stepping in before Vaughn can say something incredibly stupid, like <em>yes, she likes it just fine</em>. “How did you even get to Elpis?”</p><p>“Same way as you got to Helios, Cupcake. Woke up my driver at an unholy hour and drove here, googling a bakery on the way. You should go eat your pumpkin spiced cupcake while it’s still fresh, by the way. I got you a smoothie, too. The guy that sold it said it’s good for stress, though he looked like he was still asleep, so I wouldn’t believe him much.”</p><p>Jack’s attention turns back to Vaughn, and they have a short awkward conversation about his <em>boyfriend</em>. Jack says that Rhys didn’t mention that his friend got someone, and Vaughn manages to answer something meaningful about the relationship still being fresh.</p><p>Meanwhile, Rhys pulls out his phone and, inspired by Yvette’s investigative skills, types <em>‘long distance partner refusing contact’</em> in the search bar. He opens the first result and quickly decides that this is the place Jack had visited. The article is divided into sections, one of them mentioning one partner having too much work. The advice is a surprise visit with cooking and cleaning or other help that could help with stress.</p><p>“Unbelievable,” he mutters to himself. Some tension leaves his body, and then more when he realises that Jack might have… actually missed him. Louder, he clears his throat and says: “Vaughn, I think you should start getting ready; work’s in 40 minutes,” subtly sending him away. When he is alone with Jack, he walks up to him and kisses him. He is just trying, right?</p><hr/><p>Rhys thought that maybe Yvette was just right. That Jack was trying to be a good boyfriend and this visit can’t really harm anybody. But when Vaughn came home after work and Rhys put his phone down for a while to eat the dinner Jack cooked for them all – Roasted Acorn Squash with Turkey Sausage, Peppers, and Goat Cheese, a surprisingly healthy meal that he had Rhys approve beforehand, and Cranberry Almond Crunch and Pear Crumble as a dessert.</p><p>It started out fine, with a light conversation about work. But Jack got bored quickly, and he steered them towards something more interesting.</p><p>“So, Vann, tell me something about your boyfriend! Did you bond over Bunkers &amp; Badasses and multiplication tables for two-digit numbers? Or are you true opposites? Do you mark him up too?”</p><p>Rhys blinks, blinks again. Once more, Jack is not acting like himself, though he can easily imagine that bonding with your partner’s friends is on some relationship advice list. He prepares himself to step in in case Vaughn fails to answer, but his friend seems to be determined to handle the situation.</p><p>“We actually have a lot in common. Same taste in games, books, movies, food and alcohol. And no, this was just…” he tugs at the collar of his shirt awkwardly, trying to cover up the shocking number of hickeys that look as angry as ever, even under all the make-up he put on. “This was just heat of the moment.”</p><p>“You mean first sex?” Jack cackles.</p><p>“Okay, let’s <em>not</em> talk about sex while eating,” Rhys speaks up while Vaughn coughs, choking on his food.</p><p>It goes on like that for the rest of the weekend. Jack spends most of the time lazing around, playing Rhys’ video games or cooking for him, and Rhys works harder than necessary to feed the lie that he has too much work. He has enough sense to send Vaughn away one night to spend at Yvette’s, so he doesn’t have to hear Jack railing Rhys into the mattress. Even more wisely, he orders a sturdier, less creaky bed in the morning.</p><p>Jack looks satisfied when he leaves on Monday morning, leaving meals in plastic boxes for Rhys and promising to visit again when the new bed arrives to ‘baptise’ it. As the door of his awfully expensive and even more awfully yellow car closes behind him, Rhys and Vaughn both release a sigh of relief.</p><p>“I can’t do this, bro,” Rhys groans as he collapses onto their sofa. He can smell Jack’s cologne there, and it only sours his mood further, reminding him that the two days of tiptoeing around the subject of Vaughn’s imaginary boyfriend really did happen. “All I was thinking about the whole time was that he will find out!”</p><p>“You think?!” Vaughn snaps, pacing in front of him and wildly gesticulating. “How do you think<em> I</em> felt?!”</p><p>Rhys scowls. “But he is <em>my</em> boyfriend, <em>my</em> dream come true, and it's kind of selfish that you’re still thinking about yourself when it’s <em>me</em> who you are almost <em>forcing</em> to end a relationship when <em>you</em> are the one doing something forbidden! I was just living a dream and then you had to—!” he stops shortly before saying something really mean.</p><p>“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t find myself a Prince Charming as you did!” the shorter man shouts, his face red from anger. “This might be news to you, Rhys, but I didn’t choose this! So, get your head out of your ass—”</p><p>“Excuse me?!” Rhys is standing too, now. “<em>You</em> should get your head out of your ass! Or maybe out of Yvette’s—”</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> you dare say that!”</p><p>They stare at each other, both red in the face and panting. Vaughn’s fists are clenching and unclenching by his sides and Rhys is trembling with repressed anger. He mustn’t let go, mustn’t hurt his friend even more, but that situation feels so <em>unfair</em>, it is so <em>frustrating</em> that <em>nothing is in his control anymore!</em></p><p>Finally, Vaughn shuts himself in his room, and the tension pops like a balloon. Rhys falls heavily into the nearest armchair, tugging at his hair.</p><p>This is so screwed up.</p><hr/><p>They don’t talk to each another anymore. Every time they meet, the avoid each other’s eyes, anger and hurt still present. On the third day since the fight, Rhys packs his bag and his laptop, and calls his driver.</p><p>Jack is mildly surprised to see him in Helios. It doesn’t take much explaining to be let in, though. He offers Rhys a glass of scotch, refilling his own glass of gin &amp; tonic. They talk briefly about people always causing drama (Rhys claimed that they fought because of the relationship and he wants a place where he can work in peace, which is something Jack’s penthouse had proven to be many times in the past). Or rather, Jack talks and Rhys is deep in thought.</p><p>Travelling to Helios, staying with none other than Handsome Jack, who would sell his grandma at any time for the right price and who wouldn’t bat an eye at a couple being arrested in the middle of a busy street, that wasn’t one of his brightest moments.</p><p>Thinking had been hard, lately. Surprisingly, he found himself thinking about Jack, to the point it was distracting him from work. He imagined a life where his friends didn’t have an affair, and he could live his happy life. Finish off the job for Hyperion, sell Atlas, do small gigs for the rest of his life, and live with the most amazing man in the universe.</p><p>Instead, he has stress, bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep, he can barely look Jack in the eyes from fear that he will somehow read his mind and then bad things will happen that Rhys still wasn’t able to admit to himself. Even if Vaughn and Yvette manage to find a safe place to run away to, even if he somehow survives the ensuing questioning about his close friends disappearing together, he will never have his dream. Vaughn and Yvette will spend the rest of their lives on the run, and they will probably die in a camp anyway. He can either have his friends, or his relationship, and at this point, he is not sure he can actually have the former.</p><p>The glass of scotch is emptied quickly and refilled. Rhys continues to muse over his life, the screen of his tablet long shut off, because he didn’t give it any attention since he took the device out of his bag to answer emails more comfortably.</p><p>Three glasses of scotch are emptied, and Rhys finally begins to feel warm. The penthouse has been mostly silent since he arrived, Jack sitting in an armchair and doing something on his mobile. He doesn’t react to the fact that Rhys isn’t working, or that he drank much more than usually.</p><p>And what else could he expect from the King of Stone? The man who made people disappear on daily basis. He was probably somehow responsible for Eric’s arrest too. Or his people. Jack had to have some people gossiping to him. Did he personally decide which rumours are true and which are not? If he thought that Rhys is hetero after their first lunch or first date, would he send him to the camp himself? Would he kick him out of his bed and drag him naked through the streets?</p><p>“Are you alright, Pumpkin? You are breathing loudly.”</p><p>Rhys’ jaw clenches on its own, and he closes his eyes. That is what can get Jack’s reaction. That Rhys is breathing heavily. Not the fact that his friend is in danger, or that he had been advocating for the worst person under the sun. Loud sounds – that is what bothers him.</p><p>“I’m <em>sorry</em>,” he grits through his teeth. “I hope I’m not bothering you. Wouldn’t want to end up in a corrective camp.” It feels really good to say it, to snap. This is far from a slip, this is a head-first dive, and it feels so freeing!</p><p>“What?” Jack blinks at him dumbly. “Why would you—?”</p><p>“Isn’t that what you do to people that bother you?!” Rhys spits, standing up. “Heterosexuals bothering you so much that you decide to fund a gulag! And who knows if they are really hetero! You can send anybody there!” Some part of him tells him that he is buying a ticket with those words. Bigger part claims that the opportunity to fight is worth it.</p><p>But Jack doesn’t swallow his bait. He doesn’t look angry, or touched. His face is as calm as ever as he says in a mocking tone: “Ooh, are you gonna start a drama now?”</p><p>“It’s not drama, Jack!” Rhys screams at the top of his lungs, way too loudly for the situation and Jack’s perfectly measured tone. The actor doesn’t even flinch. Rhys continues to scream anyway. “It’s real people dying in your friend’s corrective camp! People who have done nothing wrong! Who said loving the opposite gender is wrong, anyway?! We don’t even talk about the religious stuff anymore; people just accept that it’s the law and allow people to be killed daily!”</p><p>Jack seems to have a moment’s realisation, but the expression of understanding doesn’t remain on his face as he rolls his eyes and stands up. “If you could stop being dramatic for a while,” he says, still calm and mocking, “and let me explain—”</p><p>“I don’t care about your explanation!” Rhys snorts. Then, he screams the words he is not sure he believes; he screams them because that is the only thing he can do; he can only fight and fight and fight against the universe until he is in control of his life again. “You are a <em>monster</em>!”</p><p>Silence fills the room. Rhys is panting heavily, still angry but out of words. Jack stares at him, takes him in completely, his trembling hands, hints of tears in his eyes, the hatred and anger radiating off him. It goes on for long enough for Rhys’ breath to calm down, and for his actions to finally sink in.</p><p>And right then, Jack speaks. “Well, if that’s what you think about me, Rhys, I think you’d do better to leave now.” And that is all he says.</p><p>Rhys barely holds in a quiet gasp as reality hits him hard. He has enough dignity (or pride, or stupidity) in him to pick up his bag and tablet and leave without saying another word. The door slams shut behind him and he leans on the nearest wall.</p><p>He is suddenly overpowered by nausea, and he gags, barely keeping the alcohol in. He gasps as he tries to catch his breath, and when he finally does, all that is left is emptiness in his chest and a single tear on his face.</p><p>Now, he had lost everything.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>O.O I'm evil. What do you think of the twist? The plot is at the top point of escalation, now we can only go down. It's about to get awesome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. rock bottom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everything goes even more to shit, but Rhys won't abandon his friends. His plan is worth the Stupidest Pumpkin Award, though.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this and the later chapter, I recommend having a smaaaaaaall break in reading at every breakline. Like, 30 seconds to let the angst soak in. :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you are at the very bottom, the only direction you can take is the one you are used to taking, and so Rhys gets a hotel and has a driver waiting for him in the morning. He stays at a hotel in Elpis then, too, only visiting his apartment to get essentials and fresh clothes once in a while.</p><p>The Strongfork family works hard when they want to achieve something, and Rhys is a true Strongfork. He works harder than ever – at once the boss, the manager, an animator and even a janitor, staying late and helping <em>all</em> Atlas staff. He becomes who he was before he got distracted. Or who he strove to be.</p><p>The animation work has been his passion since he discovered the hobby in high school. He can spend hours and hours working on a single thing, but also manage a team. Afterall, that is what Atlas was in the beginning. An ever-growing team. Loyal and inseparable, willing to cover each other’s back. There is trust among the employees and the leadership. This is the place for him.</p><p>And who knows, he might even decide not to quit. What is the point anyway? He will get a lot of money and be set for the rest of his life, withering away in an empty house with no-one—</p><p>No, no, the Strongforks don’t think like that. The only things he needs to think about are work and keeping a routine. How could he forget to pack lunch this morning again? Rhys needs to focus. Forget <em>them</em>.</p>
<hr/><p>Nights are seemingly the same for Handsome Jack. His penthouse was usually empty, and it is usually empty again. Except it is not – now it is <em>always</em> empty, and the drink in his hand is stronger than he would make it before, not to his taste, but he drinks it and goes to bed.</p><p>Maybe it is the lack of work. There is no role to get ready for at the moment, not that he will be lacking money, or his fame will plummet if he doesn’t film at any given moment. He just doesn’t want to go back to his old routine, spending the nights calling his friends in Pandora and who knows where else.</p><p>He lays in his bed and stares into the ceiling. The last time it was so hard to fall asleep was— Yeah, whatever. He can get some pills if the lack of sleep becomes a problem.</p><p>He is aware that he cannot go on like this forever. But he did everything he could! He read all those stupid articles; heck, he was reading one right at the time Rhys decided to go full drama queen and end things!</p><p>He wanted Rhys. He doesn’t want him anymore. Betrayal stings like a bitch, and Jack is not interested in betraying bastards.</p><p>He thought Rhys understood. He thought that maybe <em>the Mage</em> sees right through him. Sees the human, sees the truth. But all this time, Rhys was just like the rest of them. He was afraid of Jack, saw a monster in him. Except there is no monster! Only a face made of stone that Jack has painstakingly created to protect—</p><p>That doesn’t matter anymore. John is gone, and Jack… Jack has a ceiling to stare at…</p>
<hr/><p>Staring into the ceiling only works for so long. His email only has as many unanswered or ignored messages. There is no news from Pandora. The sun is slowly raising over Helios and filling the room with an orange glow. Because it is winter, and the city is covered in snow, the rising sun is a signal that it is not an early morning by far.</p><p>Still, Jack stays in the bed. He closes all the browser tabs on his phone and opens an empty one. He doesn’t know what possesses him and forces him to type <em>‘rhys strongfork’</em> into the search bar, but in a few minutes, he is scrolling through his social sites.</p><p>There are close to no new posts since their fight. Before that, it is mostly the usual – a shocking number of perfect selfies, good bad jokes, some quotes, some opinions screamed into the void. As he scrolls deeper, he finds a burst of a lot of Rhys’ interaction with his fans a few weeks ago, but he doesn’t quite know what caused it.</p><p>Well, actually, Jack has an <em>idea</em>. It was about the time Rhys’ little friend and their scary friend started an affair in a broom closet where they even left the doors open for all of the world to see.</p><p>Jack rubs his face with both hands, silently groaning. He has yet to look into that. A crime was reported to him, and it is his <em>duty</em> to contact Wilhelm.</p><p>After a short minute of hesitation, Jack dials out the number. Wilhelm’s gruff <em>what</em> greets him, and Jack huffs.</p><p>“‘Sup? Your corrective camp prospering? It sure as hell should with all the money I’m sendin’ ya! Anyway, I got a pair for you. Yes, a man and a woman. Pure Atlas breed.”</p>
<hr/><p>Rhys’ day has a routine. It had always had a routine. Ever since he learned as a small boy that things that are out of his control are the ones that hurt the most, Rhys had made sure that he controls his life to the last detail.</p><p>On a cold Monday a week before the Mercenary Day, Rhys gets up. He brushes his teeth and puts on fit, warm clothes and his running shoes. With sunglasses perched on his nose and a thin scarf wrapped around his neck and over his mouth, he heads out.</p><p>The ground is covered in ice in some places, but his shoes have a special sole. He doesn’t lose his balance, doesn’t slip even once. He usually runs faster in the winter, wanting to be out of the cold, and so he, naturally, chooses a longer path.</p><p>When he finally gets to his hotel room, dusting the snow off of himself in front of the door not to add unnecessary work to the staff, he is a little cold. Fortunately, that is nothing a cup of strawberry leaf, licorice root and blessed thistle tea can’t fix!</p><p>As for breakfast, his new breakfast schedule, written on the back of some report, or maybe the electricity bill, says that this is the egg white, ham and spinach quiches day. With this piece of paper, the risk of him missing or skipping over breakfast got lowered by 73%. He still has to figure out how to get himself to pack a lunch and not forget about it.</p><p>Both the tea and the breakfast fill the room with an unpleasant smell. It is not the ingredients, just the way they are served. But Rhys is used to eating and drinking things he doesn’t like. There is a mango and banana smoothie waiting for him in the small fridge of his hotel room, and he <em>hates</em> mango.</p><p>A few emails are answered as he eats, and then it is time to head to work. Rhys dresses up anything but casually. As the big boss, he needs to look stunning every day. He is sure it is in some unwritten codex. Are you powerful, rich and awesome? Then dress like it!</p><p>There are many layers to his clothes. Plain black socks, mid-calve hight, because it is wintertime, and nobody will see anyway. High boots, tight fitting slacks, leather belt from an animal he had only seen once in a ZOO. A black undershirt, a dark grey dress shirt. A slightly darker waistcoat and a black jacket matching his slacks. And of course, the Atlas red tie and a silken pocket square in his breast pocket, only the tip of it peeking out at the perfect angle.</p><p>With hair styled back with a little help of gel, and a lot of makeup to cover any imperfection of his skin and the occasional dark rings under his eyes, Rhys is ready to take the world for himself.</p><p>Except he is not doing that. He is stepping into the car waiting in front of the hotel and driving to work, to a company he will soon give up. Or maybe not. He still hadn’t decided.</p><p>His lunch stays in the fridge in the hotel room. Again.</p>
<hr/><p>With a fresh, new script in hand, Jack eagerly paces through the house. He only has 48 lines in the movie, not much screen time, but at least he has something to busy himself with on the boring winter morning.</p><p>He ate cereals for breakfast, his favourite brand. It honestly tasted like shit. Either he got spoiled by Rhys forcing him to store more variations, or the brand changed their recipe. Probably the latter. It was a cheap brand, and they probably wanted to go even cheaper. With all the leftovers from Rhys’ stays and his shopping eaten, Jack didn’t really have a choice anyway. He forced the breakfast down and got to reading.</p><p>Most of his lines were short. He didn’t have to practice, ever, so the only thing he did with a script was reading and memorising the scenes. Sometimes trying to come up with better words or more expressive postures or faces than the ones mentioned in brackets above his lines.</p><p>In situations like this, Jack curses his genius brain, because he has all of his scenes memorised by lunch time. He also cursed his idea to order a takeout. He could do some cooking, but no, Jack chose laziness.</p><p>He would bake if he already didn’t make 55 kinds of Christmas and winter sweets, sending most of them to his brother and friends. He received a nice Christmas-themed card in return from Janey, with both her and Athena’s name signed by her hand only. Timothy sent him a photo of an empty box and a request of <em>‘less of the coconut stuff, more walnut stuff, gingerbread appreciated’</em>. Jack sent another two boxes and only received a <em>thanks</em> in return.</p><p>Jack had tried everything. He went shopping, tried ice-skating, treated himself to a spa, read a book, watched a movie… To his eternal frustration, most of those things made him think of Rhys.</p><p>The Mage was supposed to be out of his head by now. He turned out to not be who Jack thought he was, and he didn’t deserve the time of his day. Still, he found himself checking on him a couple times, thinking about him, and to his even greater frustration, he soon realised that the sting of betrayal had dulled.</p><p>Many times, Jack asked himself whether he should tell Rhys. Tell him that he knows, tell him what he did, but he was asked not to. When he tried searching the echonet for advice on this topic, he didn’t find anything. There wasn’t any article about what to do when your ex-boyfriend’s best friends are heterosexuals.</p><p>With a long sigh, Jack sat in an armchair and picked up his knitting set and his glasses. He used to do this a lot while waiting for— For when— Fucking hell!</p><p>He used to knit and tell stories to a round belly that hid a growing life with beautiful blue eyes and an angelic smile. Nostalgia, he found, was a good emotion for long winter days. He knit a tiny sweater, because that was the first pattern he had memorised, and then socks, then bigger socks, then colourful, crazy socks.</p><p>Not knowing who to talk to, and what about, he recited his lines over and over, doing silly voices and faces.</p><p>It was many, many hours later, deep into the night, when Jack woke up in the armchair. He didn’t know when he dozed off, but it was dark outside. His wristwatch told him that it is half past eleven, and he should go to bed.</p><p>Half-way there, Jack stopped abruptly. He was so used to the silence that he noticed immediately that there is an unusual noise coming from behind the entrance door to his penthouse. Soon enough, the doorbell rang. There was only one person who this could be, except it couldn’t be <em>him</em>.</p><p>Jack didn’t have a peaceful life until recently. Years of abuse, chasing and violence had taught him to be careful. With his favourite revolver, he slowly stalked towards the door. He kept the weapon in one hand, loosely lowered by his side, and opened with the other.</p><p>“Hey, Jack!” Rhys grinned at him until his eyes fell on the weapon.</p>
<hr/><p>The day went just like any other did. Rhys went from meeting to meeting, this time receiving more warm smiles than usually, as the Mercenary Day was nearing and every room in the Atlas HQ was a proof, with garlands, small trees, various decorations, hanging mistletoe and nice smelling pouches of herbs and spices.</p><p>The only two people treating him coldly were Vaughn and Yvette. The man didn’t talk to him at all, and the woman only when she had to, and usually in a rude tone, tossing a paper with his schedule at him.</p><p>At some point of the day, Rhys gained a new accessory – a mini red hat with white lining clipped to his hair with a hair clamp. He was told he should be wearing it, because he is <em>The Mage</em>, the one that makes miracles. He didn’t feel like that anymore, but he accepted it with a laugh and clipped it to his hair obediently to please Janet from HR.</p><p>The workhours were shorter at this time of the year, allowing the employees to do their shopping and arrive home at a reasonable time. The lower the employees were on the ladder, the sooner they left, until there was just Rhys and only one lit room – his office.</p><p>A small tree stood in the corner, probably arranged by some of the janitors. There were no gifts under it. The only gifts he bought this year were for his parents, and they were already shipped to Promethea and probably placed under their undoubtedly obnoxiously big and extravagant tree.</p><p>That is a lie. Rhys also bought a gift for Vaughn, for Yvette, and for Jack. Just something small, something fun. In case he got an opportunity to give the gifts to them. Maybe he will just keep them and give them to someone else some other time.</p><p>Rhys didn’t have any more shopping to do, and he didn’t have anybody at home to go back to, and so he sat at his desk and munched on a homemade granola bar while going through emails. Yvette didn’t sort them for him anymore, and so he had to do it himself. His phone began to ring just as he started, and he looked at it curiously only to hit the red button immediately. He didn’t feel like talking to Vaughn now.</p><p>The phone rang again, and again, and when Rhys didn’t answer for the fifth time, messages started appearing on the screen.</p><p>
  <em>‘Rhys, we need to talk about Jack!’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Come to our apartment quick!’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Rhys I’m serious please!’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘This might be our only chance. Please bro, come sort this out.’</em>
</p><p>He ignores those messages. Rhys moves all the emails with Merry Mercenary Day wishes to a special folder to answer later, the most important ones he leaves for morning, marked red, then he throws away the granola bar wrapping.</p><p>The world is dark behind the windows when he gets to the end of the new mail. A fresh email appears right before his eyes, the subject and address different from any other. He opens the strange email; he had seen it before.</p><p>Rhys was left staring at the screen unblinking for many minutes. It wasn’t the first time an Atlas employee was arrested without a process and taken to a gulag, the CEO being informed by a simple, cold email. Even this time of the year, he supposed he couldn’t expect the forces of the law to stop.</p><p>But he never, ever, ever would have expected to see his two best friends’ names in this email, a week before Mercenary Day. He stares at the screen blankly, waiting for the words to morph, to show that he misread, misinterpreted. But they remain the same.</p><p>Vaughn and Yvette are gone, taken to the Friendship Gulag. Rhys hits a new bottom, one he didn’t know (didn’t want to know) existed.</p>
<hr/><p>Rhys’ head is empty and full of racing thoughts at the same time. He is thinking so fast he doesn’t feel like he is thinking at all.</p><p>How could have they been found out?! Where did they make a mistake?</p><p>What does he <em>do</em> now?</p><p>Rhys collapses on his bed, fancy clothes and shoes and hair gel and make up. He tugs the blanket over his head, hiding in the small dark space.</p><p>He takes a deep breath. Another. And another. But by the fifth in, the air begins to taste stale, and he needs to lift the blanket up a little.</p><p>
  <em>Handsome Jack.</em>
</p><p>The name, the thought appears in his mind spontaneously, as if someone planted it there. Rhys shoots up fast, a silent <em>no</em> slipping from his lips. Jack couldn’t have reported them, no. They weren’t in contact for weeks, and he only talked to Vaughn once. Jack couldn’t be the one who sent them into the gulag.</p><p>And that means that he is the one who can get them out. Surely, he can get them out. They are Rhys’ best friends, his pack, his colleagues, and he can’t live without them, they are a part of his dream!</p><p>But Rhys had pushed Jack away. He called him a monster, and he broke up with him on bad terms. He cannot just walk in there like <em>hey, honey, release my friends please?</em></p><p>This is… This needs a plan. A strict plan, a schedule, a preparation. Maybe even literal.</p><p>Jack is a simple man. They broke up because Rhys insulted him a lot. He has feelings just like any other person, but he doesn’t show them, and Rhys took advantage of it, spilling hate and frustration on his partner.</p><p>He didn’t necessarily need to fix their relationship; not overnight, anyway. All he needs to do is to get into Jack’s good graces.</p><p>
  <em>“So, what’s the war plan? You always have a war plan.”</em>
</p><p>Rhys had picked the actor up once; he can do it again. Right?</p><p>He puts on his best clothes. Not the best for winter. His tight, tight slacks end above the ankles, he doesn’t wear any socks, and he will wear his best pair of shoes, drawing attention to this piece of naked skin.</p><p>On the top, Rhys only wears a thin dress shirt. He leaves a few buttons open, showing enough of his tattoo to be considered more than provocative. He wears a silky waistcoat too, to appear at least slightly modest and his usual self, but the plan doesn’t talk about modesty. Handsome Jack likes sex, and he liked Rhys. This will have to work.</p><p>The driver is understandably grumpy when he is called to take Rhys to Helios. Not even the bonus and the promise of a fancy hotel room do the trick, and the whole ride is spent in silence.</p><p>Rhys is cold. He regrets not taking spare clothes, or the gift he bought for Jack. He regrets many things, but he must not think of that. He is on a mission, taking matters into his own hands. Vaughn and Yvette’s clocks are ticking.</p>
<hr/><p>It is surprisingly easy to get into the building. Everybody still remembers that Rhys used to visit, and because it is normal for businessmen to disappear for months only to appear in the middle of the night, no-one questions him as he marches through the reception.</p><p>There is a song playing in the elevator, soft and slow like a lullaby. Rhys closes his eyes and lets it wash over him, searching for his calm. It was always easy to find the solid ground with Jack or at business meetings at Atlas, but here, in an empty, too big elevator, he is scared, so scared.</p><p>The door of the penthouse is before him sooner than he would like. He doesn’t try to open it, not wanting to know if Jack had removed his entrance code from the database. Instead, he brings his hand up to the doorbell and—</p><p>He can’t do it. Rhys lets his head fall against the door, banging a few times. He… he has to.</p><p>His hand moves fast this time, pressing the button fast enough his doubts don’t have enough time to reach him. He listens to the muffled melody on the other side and waits.</p><p>It feels like eternity, but it is probably only two minutes. Rhys has enough time to put on a flashing smile, ready for this, born for this. He can save his friends if it is to be the last thing he ever does.</p><p>There is a gun in Jack’s hand.</p><p>There is a gun. In Handsome Jack’s hand.</p><p>He is staring at Handsome Jack, the smile frozen on his face. The gun is not trained on him, but it is there.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Jack asks, more puzzled than angry.</p><p>Rhys knows an opportunity when he— Blahblahblah. “Hey, Jack!” he repeats, hearing the words come out of his mouth but not initiating them. “I… I missed you.”</p><p>Jack looks at him as if he were an alien talking English that isn’t actually English. But eventually, he steps away, letting him in. Rhys feels relieved and frightened at the same time. He is really about to do this, and the metaphorical clock keeps ticking.</p><p>“Well, I’m waiting, Pumpkin,” Jack says, annoyance clear in his voice as he puts the gun down on a stool with an expensive vase on it. “The truth, this time,” he demands, and Rhys has to keep himself from gulping.</p><p>“It is the truth,” he says softly. It is hard to say whether his voice is weak because he is a good actor or because of the fear he is feeling. “I… I’m sorry about the fight I caused last time I saw you. I was overworked and stressed, and I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t mean it.”</p><p>“Yes, you did,” Jack challenges him nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest, but he lets him speak.</p><p>“I’m really sorry, Jack. I miss what we had. We… We were perfect.” He thought it would be easier if what he says is the truth, but somehow, it hurts even more to say that, each word a painful reminder that he is in a situation he never wanted to be in.</p><p>“I want to make up,” he says, feigning self-confidence. “Please, let me… Let us try again. I came all this way to see you again. To… To…” <em>Now or never</em>. “To feel you again,” he says as he places one hand over Jack’s chest, right where the scars are.</p><p>The actor tenses for a second, just barely, and only Rhys would notice after all the time they spent together. Then he lets his hands fall to his sides. Rhys takes it as an invitation. He wraps his hands around Jack’s neck, pulls him forward and kisses him.</p><p>For a split second, it feels incredibly good. But then the kiss he had secretly been longing for sours. He cannot put his soul into it, it feels wrong. Every other time, he had full control over this, <em>every single time. </em>He held Jack down more times than he was held. He tries to take a step forward, pushes the older man against the glass wall, closes his eyes to keep himself from getting nauseous, and kisses again. It is not nearly convincing enough, but Jack seems to take the hint.</p><p>A panicked sound gets stuck in Rhys’ throat as he is spun around, and suddenly it is his back that hits the glass wall. His whole body begins to tremble, but he can write that off to excitement as he leans in to kiss Jack again.</p><p>But Jack pulls away just as suddenly as he put him in the position. He gives him one look, face perfectly blank. Anything Rhys feels he could say to make it work comes out as nothing more than a panted breath, and he basically feels hope being drained from his body.</p><p>Jack’s face morphs to disgust, clear as day, dealing the final blow to the young magician, before he says: “This is what you think of me, Rhys? That I’d want <em>this</em>,” he gestures to his body, and the young man doesn’t understand. Jack seems to know, and he takes a step forward, squeezing Rhys’ butt to demonstrate it. This time, the panicked sound escapes his lips, and he squeezes his eyes shut.</p><p>Jack lets go of him as if Rhys turned to burning coal. He doesn’t step away, though, not until Rhys slowly, tentatively opens his eyes.</p><p>“Now, Pumpkin. Do you really want me to <em>rape</em> you, or are you going to tell me the <em>real</em> reason you are here?!” He spits those words out like poison, and they hit the young man like daggers, and he sinks to the ground.</p><p><em>Jack knows</em>. He reads him like an open book. At the worst of times, Jack seems to sense what is going on in his head… But he doesn’t <em>understand!</em></p><p>Rhys wants to at least say that what he said was true, but when he opens his mouth, a sob forces its way out. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried. Tears roll down his face, sobs shake his body with unnatural force, and he is hunched over on the floor like and absolute fool.</p><p>And then the emotions come, almost like an afterthought. He is hit the second time and begins to sob harder. He lost. He will never get his friends out of it. He will never get Jack back. He will probably be taken to a gulag too, and that is the thing bothering him the <em>least</em>. Jack walks away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thoughts? O:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the friendship gulag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rhys learns that Jack sent Yvette and Vaughn to the gulag, and he goes to that place too. In a storm literal and metaphorical, he has to fight for all that is dear to him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: some more angst, but no violence or anything. :)</p><p>Once more, I recommend making a few small breaks as you read. ^.^ Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a second, Rhys expects to hear a call. Maybe to the police, maybe to some of Jack’s friends. But the actor’s steps come closer and closer again, until Rhys sees his bare feet right in front of him through teary eyes. Jack crouches and offers him something – a box of paper tissues.</p><p>A wry laugh mixes with his sobs, and Rhys accepts, trying to dry the seemingly endless stream on his face. He must look pathetic. He almost wishes to die in a gulag, just so nobody ever learns what a failure he really is.</p><p>Jack speaks, and it startles Rhys so much he jumps, his elbow hitting the stool with the vase and the gun, all of it falling to the ground.</p><p>“S-sorry,” he stutters as he watches wide-eyed a hundred of tiny shards that used to be an expensive dust catcher. The gun falls in the middle of the mess, spinning in place for a few seconds and stopping with its barrel facing away from them. It is only when the room is silent again that Rhys realises that he stopped crying from the shock, and that Jack’s hand is on his shoulder. He looks at the appendage, eyes travelling up until he meets Jack’s blue and green eyes.</p><p>Jack sighs, shakes his head and stands up, offering a hand to Rhys. He takes it and lets himself be hauled up, thoughts in his head racing a mile a minute, about Jack, the vase, the movie, his company, his friends, the gulags, his love— And suddenly, he thinks he knows what to say.</p><p>“Vaughn and Yvette were taken to a gulag,” he says. His voice is raspy and pathetic, but the message is clear. It feels refreshing, sends him back to reality. Jack wanted him to talk, to be straightforward, and not an emotional, pathetic mess. To be the <em>Mage</em>, his Mage and not a human.</p><p>“I know,” Jack says.</p><p>It shatters Rhys’ world. Slowly, he looks up, only to see the same mask he always sees. “Y-you… You know?” he asks, hoping that there is another explanation, that it doesn’t mean what it—</p><p>But his fears are confirmed when Jack says: “I sent them there.”</p><p>Rhys tugs at his hand that stayed in Jack’s the whole time. He takes a step back, not caring about the window anymore. It can’t be true, he tells himself, and he wants to believe it so much that he actually does. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, you, you— I came here because I thought—! <em>You wouldn’t!</em> Please, tell me it’s not, it is not—” He looks up to see that Jack’s face has changed.</p><p>The actor raises an eyebrow. “Am I not? Is it not?” he asks mockingly. “What did you think when you came here?”</p><p>Rhys tells the truth. “That you will help me. That you would still care about me. That you aren’t what people make you to be.” The words feel like prayer on his lips.</p><p>“You…” Jack halts, licking his lips and looking at him from head to toe. “You are an absolute idiot, Rhys.”</p>
<hr/><p>He could end it. If he left Rhys at that, he could get rid of him for good. The young man would hate him and get out of his life. But it was already established that Jack doesn’t want that.</p><p>Feeling bad for playing with Rhys, letting him suffer through his own sick game, was a weakness Jack wanted to live with. And now that he knows that Rhys isn’t a complete moron (maybe a 90% moron), he believes that they can go back to what they had. But he will make it Rhys’ choice, to avoid… drama.</p><p>“Do you trust me?” he asks. When he doesn’t get an answer, only a wary expression, he turns around. “I suppose you do if you though that I will break the law to help you.”</p><p>As he walks towards the living room area, he tries hard not to think about Rhys in a bad way. He can hear the young man slowly stumbling after him, still occasionally letting out pathetic little sounds. He had seen him cry and break down and presumably lose all hope, and knowing the facts, this behaviour seems highly irrational and so unlike Rhys...</p><p>But then again, it is so unlike him too, and there was a day in his life when he cried exactly like that, and he demanded people to hold him, feeling himself float away, disappear from reality. Sometimes, he supposes, emotions don’t give you a choice.</p><p>He gestures for Rhys to sit on the sofa and heads towards a shelf that makes most of one wall. There are some decorations and some books, but most shelves are empty. There is a secret panel behind a line of books, and he opens it deftly, reaching inside a small hole to pull out another book. Or rather, a photo album.</p><p>After dropping the album in Rhys’ hands, he walks towards the armchair he sat on previously, picking up the tiniest pieces of clothes he created and tossing it unceremoniously on the younger man before sitting down.</p><p>Few minutes of staring later, Rhys figures that he won’t get any explanation about the clothes, and he carefully opens the book. Jack knows every single photo in it. He might have tried to erase all evidence, moving away and selling anything that his heart was willing to let go, but the few things that remained helped him through painful, lone nights whether he wanted them or not.</p><p>“You had a child,” Rhys breaths out, surprise obvious in his voice and face.</p><p>“Angel,” Jack confirms. “Her name was Angel.”</p><p>Rhys reaches the end of the album very soon – there aren’t many photos. He looks up, then, emotions playing on his face like on a parade. Confusion, pity, anger, fear, questions. “What happened?” he asks. He doesn’t ask why nobody knows or why Jack never mentioned her. That is a good move, probably.</p><p>“She died of leukaemia on her third birthday.” Even Jack is surprised that he can say it. Years of mastering his emotions, but on some days, a sad note tinted his voice when he and Tim talked about her. Not today, apparently. “For three years, she was my everything. I was lucky that I had a lot of friends and family to help me out, and a lot of work…” He pauses, shakes his head, feeling like a fool. “It’s not like you would understand what it is to lose a child…”</p><p>“I…” Rhys speaks up nervously, clearing his throat. “I like kids. When I was little, I imagined having a big family, so my kids have a lot of siblings to play with.”</p><p>Jack measures him, takes in his vulnerable expression. Squinting, he blames: “You said something else every time we talked about kids.”</p><p>“I know,” Rhys admits quietly, looking down at his hands. For a second, it looks like he will clutch his stomach, but then his arms relax. “I was twelve when the doctors told me I won’t ever have my own kids,” he explains. “And since then, I… I didn’t get a choice!” he startles himself with how loudly he says that. “I wanted to, but I didn’t get the choice, and so I told myself that I don’t want to, that I chose this. It was something I couldn’t control, but I tried to anyway. I…” he falls silent.</p><p>Jack wonders what he wanted to say. It could be anything, and he will never know, and maybe Rhys won’t either. He could ask, but there are other things they need to talk about as soon as possible, and he can feel the question forming on Rhys’ lips.</p><p>“I lost Angel on her third birthday,” he repeats. Rhys looks up, confused, and Jack continues. “Three years after her mother died during childbirth.”</p><p>Slowly, the realisation creeps onto Rhys so slowly, that it looks like Jack will have to spell it out to him. He watches him blink and open his mouth without saying anything.</p><p>“It is not so difficult,” he explains when Rhys fails to ask any question. “The science had been around for almost thirty years. It’s illegal, of course, and illegal to talk about it, but if you know the right people, you can undertake the procedure. Back then, there was only one person on this continent capable of doing this. Since then, Nina has schooled more colleagues.”</p><p>“You had a child with a woman?” Rhys asks, dumbfounded, still struggling to believe.</p><p>“Yes,” Jack confirms again. “The female and male reproductive cells aren’t any different. The only thing preventing opposite sex people to have kids is a few genes that are easily disabled. Did you never wonder why two women can have a boy, and the other way around, when we are supposedly so different? We are not; we are the same species, but mother nature played a freak and decided that our genitals matter, somehow.”</p><p>Rhys looks lost, clutching his temples. When he senses an opportunity, he asks the question Jack was waiting for. “But the gulags…”</p><p>If fact, Jack had been waiting for that ever since their first date. He had a feeling that Rhys is the opposite of radical, given that he had two close friends of both genders, but he was never sure, and a true political discussion never came up between them.</p><p>“The gulags are corrective death camps to get rid of heterosexuals. The <em>Friendship Gulag</em>, though,” he makes a dramatical pause, giving Rhys a chance to open his dumb head to the idea that <em>maybe</em> Jack really <em>isn’t</em> a monster, “is a coverup for a safe space. Wilhelm helps people get new IDs, find safe houses on the countryside or in countries with a less strict law force. Your friends were peacefully offered exile, and they accepted.”</p><p>Rhys shakes his head, tugs at his hair. “I, I, I don’t understand!” he whimpers. “All this time, the scariest gulag with the highest security and death rate… It was… How? I, I mean, who knows? And what—? Vaughn tried to contact me a few hours ago. He said he wants to talk about you. Why?”</p><p>“How should I know?” Jack shrugs.</p><p>“I’m the biggest fool in the world…” Rhys hides his face in his hands, taking deep breaths.</p><p>Jack wants to agree, to remind him that he is an idiot, but it doesn’t feel right. He also wants to do something to make him feel better about it, but he doesn’t know what.</p><p>“Do you want to come and see them?” he asks at last, and Rhys nods his head so fast it looks painful. “Great, get up! It’s a long ride.” Being an example, he gets up and calls his driver. He ignores Rhys’ questions of <em>what, now?</em> and <em>it’s one in the morning</em>, and instead tosses a pair of colourful woollen socks at him. “Take these, or you will freeze out there. Pandora’s weather is harsh.”</p><p>Rhys fell asleep the minute his body touched the warm leather seats of the car. Jack rolled his eyes at that and covered him with his coat. Rhys was severely underdressed, but none of his clothes that still remained at Jack’s penthouse was more suitable for winter than what he was wearing right now.</p><p>He looked pale and exhausted. The crying washed away some of his makeup and the paleness of his cheeks and purple bags under his eyes stood up now. He also looks like he lost weight, but that is nothing 55 kinds of Christmas and winter sweets cannot fix.</p>
<hr/><p>It is still dark outside when Rhys is woken up by a hand on his shoulder. His whole body aches and he is having the biggest headache he has ever had. Trying to shield his eyes from the ceiling light in the car proves useless, and in the end, he decides that some cold air will help him the most.</p><p>Standing outside, wrapped in Jack’s winter coat that the actor insisted he wears, he realises soon that they aren’t at the gulag. They are in the driveway of a modern looking house, and Jack is already walking towards the door.</p><p>“Where are we?” Rhys asks, still finding it difficult to hide his emotions, currently fear. He is not afraid of Jack, but he is so confused and sleepy, it is natural to be wary.</p><p>“My house,” Jack answers, walking back to him after he opens the door and pulling him inside by his elbow. “It’s early in the morning, we can wait here until a more reasonable hour. When is the last time you ate?”</p><p>“What kind of question is that?” Rhys frowns. At Jack’s raised eyebrow he remembers – it is a Handsome Jack kind of question. “Too long,” he admits.</p><p>“Thought so,” Jack sighs. “You look starved.”</p><p>Rhys follows the actor into a nice, modern kitchen. There is not a single bit of dust, the place probably kept by maids, and the fridge and pantry are stocked with food that doesn’t go bad easily.</p><p>They eat an early breakfast and drink tea in silence. Even though there is a million questions that need to be asked, none of them seems willing to begin, and so they just exchange looks over the edge of a mug. Somehow, Jack managed to produce an herbal tea from the pantry.</p><p>Rhys sits in a comfortable armchair wrapped in a blanket until the sun rises behind the windows. Jack has disappeared at some point, a phone in hand. When he comes back, he needs to shake Rhys awake again.</p><p>The drive to the gulag is disturbingly short, but it explains why Jack’s house has such a big garden and no close neighbours. A scary-looking man waits for them at the gate, and they walk in on their own, the car not being allowed.</p><p>Wilhelm is in every sense of the word the terrifying Overseer he is meant to be. He could probably snap Rhys in half with his bare hands, and the huge scars on his body show that he survived more than one fight. When he talks to Jack, though, he is able to crack a joke or two. His humour seems to be very dark, but Jack doesn’t mind, and Rhys doesn’t expect anything else.</p><p>The first gate and fence are rather simple – wire and steel. The second wall is made of concreate, and that is what most photos and videos from this place focus on. Escape is impossible, and Rhys hesitates – to both older men’s amusement – before walking through the second gate.</p><p>In the dim light of the morning, he doesn’t see a corrective camp. What he sees are houses, walkways, and people clearing the snow. Not in tattered orange robes, but in normal clothes.</p><p>“Do you believe now?” Jack asks, some sort of smugness creeping into his voice.</p><p>“Did you create this?” Rhys asks instead of feeding his ego, though this question is not much better.</p><p>“Create a safe space, bribed a lot of people, caused most other gulags to be shut down for low cost efficiency, funded the coverup and kept funding it? Yes, I pretty much did.” When Wilhelm pointedly clears his throat, Jack adds: “With the help of a lot of skilful people, of course.”</p><p>They walk through the hidden town, receiving warm smiles and greetings from the citizens. Jack and Wilhelm must be their heroes, Rhys realises. They probably are. If this place is what it looks like, they have saved hundreds, thousands of lives.</p><p>In the centre, or what looks like a small square with a frozen fountain, they meet other people. One of them looks exactly like Jack, and they hug. It must be the actor’s twin brother. While they greet each other, exchanging a few jokes and ignoring Rhys, the other new person – a woman – walks towards him and extends an arm.</p><p>“They call me Ember,” she says in a heavy accent. “I’m Timothy’s partner. And who are you, mon chéri? The magician that enchanted the King?”</p><p>Rhys feels his cheek grow a little bit more red, thankful for the blush that he already has from the cold to cover that up. “That… That would be me. Rhys Strongfork, founder of Atlas, The Mage.” He tries to be his usual self when saying that, but all he can think about right now are his friends, and he can’t focus. And he is cold.</p><p>Fortunately, Jack decides to finally remember why they are here, and they all walk down a few more narrow streets until they stop by a random house. The names of Rhys’ friends are written on the door on a piece of paper that somehow still holds, even in the harsh weather.</p><p>Having such a big audience feels more than a little unnerving, but Rhys grits his teeth and knocks on the door. There is shuffling inside and soon, the door opens.</p><p>Vaughn and Rhys stare at each other, both visibly uncomfortable, both unwilling to be the first one to speak.</p><p>“Okay, guys, let’s go check out the lake!” Timothy Lawrence suggests and the group leaves.</p><p>Rhys watches them go until they dip behind a corner, and then he turns back to Vaughn. His friend looks wary, his new home looks warm, and Rhys is freezing and alone there—</p><p>“Hi,” he says.</p><p>Vaughn doesn’t answer. Instead, he grins and hugs him, doing a little jump to get his arms around the taller man’s neck, and then Rhys is lifting him up, hugging him tight. It feels like the right thing to do, the only possible option, the way it should be.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.</p><p>“I know; so am I,” Vaughn mumbles into his neck.</p><p>After that, they go inside. Yvette punches Rhys in the shoulder lightly and then makes tea for the three of them. The house is small and very simple. There are no personal things, and the design is cheap, as all the houses are probably built to be the same. Rhys and Vaughn sit on a small couch and Yvette needs to bring a chair from the dining area to sit on.</p><p>With the tea, it feels domestic. It calms Rhys’ nerves, tells him that maybe everything really will be alright. That he made it. Like a switch being flipped with that realisation, he goes right to his old self.</p><p>A half-smirk on his face, Rhys sips the hot beverage, silently laughing at some joke. They don’t talk about the serious stuff immediately, no. First, they need to share all the dumb jokes his friends came up with in the last twelve hours.</p><p>It feels surreal that all of this happened in one day. That he was <em>below</em> the rock bottom yesterday afternoon, and today he is—</p><p>“So,” he speaks, pulls his thoughts away from the future for a while. “I think an apology is in place.”</p><p>Rhys was about to say sorry for so many things, but Vaughn is faster. “No, you don’t,” he says. “I mean, <em>you</em> were right all along. Handsome Jack is… not who we thought he is.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have given up on you,” Rhys blurts out quickly, before he can be stopped. “I was a bad friend. If I tried a little bit more, I might have found out the truth about this place and we could have avoided a lot of drama.” He adds a soft smile at the end and Vaughn returns it.</p><p>“This is a crazy world, Rhys,” he says. “And that you came here says a lot. We both acted like assholes, so let’s just… forget it all. Focus on the important things.” His eyes flick towards Yvette for a second, and Rhys grins.</p><p>“Congratulations, man,” he pats him on the shoulder a little too hard.</p><p>They talk for a little while longer, the two telling him about the agency that contacted them and how things will be in the near future, and Rhys sheepishly confessing what he was about to do to save them. When it becomes obvious that Rhys will have to find his way to the lake on his own and hope that Jack is still there, his friends decide to go with him.</p><p>The wind outside is strong and brings more snow. Vaughn and Yvette have winter clothes, while Rhys is in his shirt and waistcoat again. He regrets not borrowing anything from Jack. Even more when they can’t seem to find the lake on the first try, because everything is white, and the streets are all the same.</p><p>“They should have given you a map or something!” Rhys says through rattling teeth. He has his hands hidden in his armpits, but anything else is pretty much freezing, and the prolonged journey isn’t helping.</p><p>“They did,” Vaughn shrugs next to him. “I left it at the house.”</p><p>He is about to tell his friend what a genius idea that was when the snowfall grows even stronger. It becomes hard to see more than a few meters ahead, and turning back really feels like the best option, but the line of houses suddenly ends, and in front of them appears something that could be a lake.</p><p>Laughing voices are as much hint as Rhys gets as he walks through the white darkness blindly. Vaughn and Yvette behind him slow down when a group of people becomes visible through the white curtains.</p><p>“Jack?” he calls out, but either the wind is too strong, or he isn’t heard. Once more, something tells him to turn around and wait it off inside. Jack will not leave him in Pandora, and even if he does, Rhys can just get a ride home when the nature calms down. Besides, the people can be anybody, and Jack can be somewhere else, hiding from the snow storm.</p><p>But at the same time, he knows that if he gives up on Jack one more time, he will lose his last chance, and so he pushes forward until he finds a body clad in a winter coat that he recognises. As if on cue, Jack turns around and looks at him, frowning, and the other people walk away, leaving them alone. A crunching sound from below has Rhys’ head bowing, and he realises that he is standing in the middle of the lake, on ice thinly covered by snow. His head spins a little when he thinks about the ice breaking.</p><p>“<em>What</em> are you doing, idiot?!” Jack snaps, anger obvious in his voice, and Rhys’ head snaps up to look at him. Right in time to see Jack take off his coat and wrap it around him. It is so warm inside it feels like burning on his freezing skin, and Rhys gasps in shock. He didn’t even realise that he was <em>that much</em> cold.</p><p>“I w-was looking for you!” he explains, his teeth rattling heavily. Jack wraps his arms around him, as if he could give him more of his body heat.</p><p>“Why now?” he asks. “I would’ve waited for you!”</p><p>“Would you, though?” he asks in a soft voice, unsure whether Jack can even hear it. He doesn’t know what leads him to ask that kind of question, to show this much vulnerability. Until very recently, he refused the idea of showing his weaknesses even to Jack, but now—</p><p>“Of course, I would!” Jack says, scowling down at him. He didn’t understand the question, thought Rhys was doubting his patience concerning his departure and not… Whatever he was actually asking about… He should probably clarify, get it out of the way, talk… talk honestly and openly.</p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” he says, and he gets to see Jack’s annoyed face morph into a curious one. “I meant it… metaphorically. I didn’t know if we, if there is, if <em>we</em>,” he says with emphasis, “can still be a <em>thing</em>.” It is not a question, and Jack doesn’t answer.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Rhys sighs, letting his head droop. “For being an idiot and not believing in you. I… missed you a lot. I still… want you.”</p><p>Jack’s fingers are warm against his skin as he cups his jaw and brings his face up. As soon as their eyes meet, Jack’s lips collide with his. He is forced to watch something unknown in those mismatched eyes, an emotion that he had never seen in someone before, and that Jack won’t probably be able to name. He holds Jack’s gaze as he kisses back as best as he can with his whole body trembling.</p><p>“You absolute moron,” Jack says when he pulls away. “You are freezing. C’mon, let’s get you somewhere warm!”</p><p>Rhys can’t hold back a laugh. This is it. This is the whole making it up to Jack, apparently. Or maybe not. Maybe he will have to keep apologising or proving his words for a long time until he is fully forgiven. He doesn’t know, but he grins anyway, because he knows he will get a <em>chance</em>, and then now it is fully in his control how he uses the chance.</p><p>As they walk away, he feels like he can see his friends somewhere in the white darkness giving him a thumbs-up. He is exactly where he always wanted to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this work is my baby, and you all don't even begin to understand. :D There will be at least two more works in the series in the nearby future, and maybe one more long fic later. :) Hope you enjoyed this angsty ride!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ElfWriting">Twitter</a>! I don't know how often I will update yet, but it won't take long for all chapters to be out, the story is already written. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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